


like mother, like son

by snickerdoobles



Category: Naruto
Genre: (but not book smart), Canon-Typical Violence, Chakra Chains, Gen, No Sakura Bashing In My Christian Minecraft Server, Smart Uzumaki Naruto, canon is but a distant memory, character tags will be updated as they appear, in which Naruto takes after Kushina far more than anyone realizes, no beta we die like men, no relationships planned as of yet but that's subject to change, now with illustrations!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-01-05 03:21:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18357569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snickerdoobles/pseuds/snickerdoobles
Summary: They give him his mother's name, in the hopes that anonymity will shield him from his father's enemies. But he holds far more in common with her than a name. He holds her burden: the Fox. He holds her dream: to become Hokage.And he holds her greatest weapon.The Uzumaki Chains.__________________________________A What-If fic where Naruto never learns the Shadow Clone technique, and instead manifests the Adamantine Sealing Chains.





	1. i-naruto

Uzumaki Naruto is many things, but one thing he’s not? _Evil_.

 

People _assume_ he’s evil, just like they assume he’s the one responsible whenever something goes wrong, just like they assume he’s going nowhere fast. And true, he might have been behind a fair number of pranks and tricks in the past, and yes, he might be dead last in class, but the demon comments are...weird, to say the least. Even more confusing is the way that the villagers just...whisper about it. Most of the time, when someone yells at him, it’s loud and upfront, but they never call him ‘demon’ to his face. Only in hushed whispers, when they think he can’t hear them. Another assumption to add to the pile, apparently. It’s not like he’s _deaf._

 

He tried asking Jiji about why people call him a demon the last time he visited Naruto’s dingy apartment, but the old man just dodged around the question before handing Naruto his budget for the month, mussing his hair, and shuffling out the door.

 

There’s not too many other people he can turn to for answers. Within his first month at the Academy, he learned the hard way that most of the staff won’t give him the time of day. They only pay him any attention when he pulls pranks or shouts at them or distracts the other kids. And even then, it’s not _good_ attention like pulling him aside to correct how he holds his wrist when he throws a kunai or teaching him how to do math more complicated than counting on his fingers. ( _Force them to look at you,_ whispers the voice in his heart as he slips an explosive tag full of glitter and foul-smelling smoke into a teacher’s desk, _force them to_ **_see_ ** _you, to acknowledge your presence._ )

 

But not Iruka-sensei. Iruka is kind to him, in little ways like offering him test retakes and taking him for ramen once in a while, and he knows that Iruka means well when he lectures him. He also knows that Iruka tried ignoring him like the other teachers do at first, but Naruto figured that something must’ve changed his mind. Sometimes, Naruto thinks that Iruka goes beyond tolerating him. Sometimes it seems like Iruka might even like him.

 

Even so, Naruto sometimes sees the same cloud of fear flit across his teacher’s face that he’s seen darken so many of the villagers’ expressions. The last thing Naruto wanted to do is alienate the one person who’s willing to give him even the barest scraps of acknowledgement.

 

Naruto’s been waiting until he has the right words to ask about his demon problem. And now he thinks he might have waited too long. He scuffs his feet in the dirt beneath the swing in the Academy courtyard, grimacing slightly as grit worms it’s way into his sandals and between his toes. His classmates all dance around each other, flashing their hitai-ates proudly to parents and siblings and friends. The teachers mill around, offering their congratulations to everyone.

 

Everyone but him. Because he failed. Again.

 

He practiced _so hard_ this time around. He studied all the scrolls he could get his hands on, he poured so much time and energy into training, and he would have passed--his Taijutsu is up to par, he can henge well enough to pass muster, his substitution is decent, and he knows he at least passed the written portion, despite the letters floating dizzily across the page--if not for the stupid bunshin. He _hates_ bunshin. He can never get it right. They’re either too weak or they pop immediately after forming.

 

Mizuki-sensei had argued in his favor after his disastrous performance, citing his endurance and determination, and Naruto had let himself feel a brief spark of hope, but Iruka had dumped a bucket of cold water on his dreams and summarily failed him once again. Naruto can see him now across the courtyard, standing next to Jiji. The older man is saying something to the scarred chuunin, but Naruto’s hearing isn’t quite sharp enough to hear it over the delighted chatter of his classmates, and he’s never been stellar at lip-reading.

 

There’s a rustle behind him, and he twists on the swing to see Mizuki-sensei perched on a branch above his head. ‘Naruto,’ the chuunin murmurs, a gleam in his dark eyes. ‘You must be upset, after failing again. Want to go talk about it?’

 

( _Why do_ **_you_ ** _care all of a sudden?_ snarls the voice, but Naruto ignores it like he always does)

 

‘’M not upset,’ says Naruto thickly, swiping his sleeve across his face. He’s not just upset, he’s devastated, but he knows the shinobi code well enough to recognize that he shouldn’t be showing this much emotion. ‘I’m _definitely_ not upset. But yeah, I guess we can ditch this joint.’

 

Mizuki offers him a grin and jerks his head towards the edge of the schoolyard. ‘C’mon kid, I know a pretty good spot for moping. Even though you’re _definitely_ not upset.’ He leaps from the tree, landing light as a cat before strolling off.

 

Naruto spares one last glance at Iruka, questions he didn’t quite know if he wanted to know the answer to burning in his heart. He can’t ask them today, not after he failed so miserably. Not after Iruka told him he wasn’t ready. He’d try next month. After school started again. Maybe he’ll get it right next time.

 

He sighs, then darts off after Mizuki.

 

 

* * *

 

Ever since he was little, he’s always felt more at home in high-up places. The tops of trees, water towers on rooftops, the Hokage Monument. Partially, he suspects, it’s because he’s out of reach from most civilians. But there’s something else, something about the tug of the wind on his hair and clothes, something about the way his heartbeat roars in his ears and his stomach clenches when he looks down, something about the way the sun glints off of everything when it’s unobstructed by trees or buildings. Up there, he can see beyond the great sea of trees surrounding Konoha. Up here, nobody throws rocks or insults at him. Up there, he feels like he could be Hokage.

 

He sees shinobi pass through his secret kingdom all the time, but they rarely ever stop and take in the sights. To them, trees and roofs and cliffs are things to be climbed on the way to their goal. He thinks it’s a shame, really, that nobody wants to look at Konoha from above. So when Mizuki takes him to a precarious balcony overseeing the Flower District, he’s quietly relieved that there’s at least _somebody_ in this village who appreciates a good view.

 

After he’s situated himself in the perfect spot, his feet dangling lazily over the edge of the balcony, Naruto tells Mizuki as such, and his sensei laughs. ‘The sunset’s absolutely gorgeous in Konoha, when you can actually see it. Too many trees here for that.’ Mizuki hands Naruto a container full of gyoza as he settles next to him, threading his legs through the balcony’s railing. ‘Iruka-sensei failed you because he’s _worried_ about you, Naruto. We both are.’

 

‘It’s the stupid fucking bunshin,’ Naruto snaps, then ducks as Mizuki flashes a hand out to thump him on the head, hissing _language_. ‘I would’ve passed that exam if I didn’t have to make a perfect bunshin, you know it, I know it, and Iruka definitely knows it.’

 

‘I understand that you have trouble with the bunshin, and, well, yes, you would have passed if it were not for that. But every ninja needs to know the Acadamy Three. They’re important fundamentals that lay the groundwork for--’

 

‘Yeah, yeah,’ grumbles Naruto, wrinkling his nose as he stuffs a piece of gyoza in his mouth. He scrubs his greasy fingers on the leg of his pants before muttering through a mouthful of dumpling, ‘Doesn’t mean that I’m not fuckin’ pissed about it.’

 

 _‘Language_ ,’ Mizuki repeats warningly, picking a gyoza of his own from the container.

 

‘Doesn’t mean I’m not fuckin’ peeved about it.’

 

Mizuki laughs. ‘That’s what I like about you, Naruto, you never let the rules tell you what to do.’ A thoughtful expression crosses the man’s face, and he taps his chin. ‘In fact, you might benefit from taking the Scroll Exam.’

 

Naruto freezes. ‘The what?’

 

‘The Scroll Exam,’ Mizuki says slowly, ‘is an alternate exam that a prospective shinobi may take in order to graduate. It’s rarely given outside of wartime, but as your sensei, I am authorized to decide whether or not that would be a viable option. And for you, I think it’s your best chance. The test itself is difficult, but for you, it’s absolutely within your power.’

 

‘Okay, but you still haven’t explained what it _is._ ’

 

‘There is a scroll in the Hokage’s library called the Scroll of Forbidden Seals. We talked about it in class at the beginning of the semester, but you may not remember. The scroll is full of powerful jutsu, so it’s kept under lock and key. Usually, the Scroll Exam starts at noon, but I don’t think you’ll have any difficulty if you start at sundown. For the exam, you must smuggle the scroll out of the Hokage Tower, learn a jutsu by midnight, and perform the jutsu for your sensei.’

 

‘Wait. I’d have to... _steal_ ? From _Jiji_?’

 

Mizuki’s face twists slightly in reproach as he shifts closer to Naruto, smacking him lightly on the head again. ‘ _Sandaime-sama,_ Naruto. Calling the Hokage ‘Jiji’ is rude. And you won’t be stealing the scroll! Not really. It’s a _test_ of your skills, to see how well you can infiltrate, how well you can retrieve an asset, how fast you can learn a difficult technique, and how well you can keep a secret. Lots of shinobi in the past have taken this alternative exam. They’ve just been sworn to secrecy.’

 

Naruto feels his own expression twist as he bites his lip. ‘I--I dunno, Mizuki-sensei, this sounds an awful lot like stealing. And I’ve never heard about this test. I’ve only ever heard of people passing the exams. I feel like Jij-- _Sandaime-sama_ would have told me about this.’ And he’s sure he would have heard from someone, especially one of the clan kids. Shikamaru especially would have taken this route in a heartbeat; anything to get out of sitting the exam with their peers. If anybody would know about this, it would be the clan kids, and the clan kids only worried about keeping their clan techniques secret. Not something like this.

 

‘He probably thought you’d pass the conventional exam. Listen, Naruto, you could be an awesome shinobi if you had the chance, but it’s the bunshin that’s holding you back. You can’t pass the exam the way everyone else does, so you just have to take a shortcut.’ He taps his forehead, grinning crookedly at Naruto. ‘Work smarter, not harder.’

 

( _He wants something from this,_ the voice says. _Be careful.)_

 

‘I...guess,’ Naruto said hesitantly.

 

‘Good kid,’ Mizuki chuckes, ruffling Naruto’s hair. ‘Now remember, you have to have the jutsu memorized by midnight tonight. Steal the scroll, learn a jutsu, come find me at training ground 17, and I’ll test you.’

 

‘...Ok, sensei.’

 

* * *

 

The longer Naruto thinks about this whole mess, the more trouble he realizes he’s in.

 

For starters? Earlier tonight, when Jiji caught him sneaking through the window into the Hokage’s archive, Jiji did _not_ seem like he knew what was happening. He didn’t spend a whole lot of time with the old man, but he knew that when it came to dealing with Naruto, Jiji had a terrible poker face. If he’d been expecting Naruto to be sneaking the scroll out, he wouldn’t have frowned and asked him what he was doing out so late. He might have rolled his eyes or smiled that weird knowing smile, but he wouldn’t have looked so... _confused._ Naruto can only hope that Jiji was shocked enough by his Oiroke No Jutsu that he wouldn’t think much about Naruto’s presence in the Tower.

 

And then there’s the fact that the _one and only jutsu_ on the scroll was a stinkin’ bunshin. Mizuki had made a whole big fuss about how the bunshin was holding him back, that he needed to learn a jutsu that wasn’t a bunshin, and now Naruto was expected to learn an _even more complicated version of a bunshin_ ? He supposes he could have studied the seals and used one of those, but Mizuki specifically told him to master a _jutsu_ . So he’s been trying. And trying. And _trying._ But he keeps hitting a wall somewhere, and he’s starting to feel tired and dizzy.

 

To top everything else off, just as he’s about to give up entirely on this nonsense and just become a shinobi the proper way, Iruka bursts from the bushes and catches sight of him. The chuunin has an angry, frustrated fire in his eyes, and Naruto tries not to shrink back too much from it. ‘I-Iruka-sensei! I--I’m sorry, I can’t--I’m not--I _can’t do bunshins--’_

 

Iruka storms forward, his voice sharper than it usually is during his lectures. ‘Naruto, that’s _no excuse for stealing the Scroll of Seals.’_

 

Naruto is now absolutely sure he’s in the most trouble he’s ever been in his entire life. Even more trouble than the time he caught his stove on fire. ‘I--Mizuki-sensei--’

 

There’s a flash of silver at the edge of the clearing, and Mizuki slinks from the shadows. He’s got three huge shuriken strapped to his back, and there’s something in his eyes that pitches Naruto’s heart rate into overdrive. ‘Iruka,’ Mizuki purrs. ‘You found him before he could do any damage with the scroll! Excellent, I was starting to worry.’

 

Iruka’s face shifts from outrage to puzzlement. ‘Mizuki? I thought you were ordered to check the riverbanks--’

 

A fleeting emotion flashes across Mizuki’s features, too quick for Naruto to catch. ‘I--saw you heading here. You know the demon better than I do, I figured you might know where it would go to ground--’

 

Something splinters in Naruto’s stomach as a wave of realization washes over him, threatening to drown him. ‘Iruka-sensei,’ Naruto says softly, trying to ignore the wobble in his tone. ‘Mizuki told me to get the scroll. He told me I could graduate if I learned a jutsu from it. That was--that was a lie, wasn’t it?’

 

The confused tone in Iruka’s voice when he says _‘What_?’ is the only answer Naruto really needs.

 

Mizuki was framing him. He wanted the scroll, and he used Naruto to get it, and Naruto had fallen for it like the stupid fucking idiot that he is because, what? Mizuki fed him dumplings? Liked the view of the sunset from a rooftop? Told him he could be a shinobi? ( _As if you can be a shinobi_ **_now,_ ** hisses the tiny voice in his heart. _Too stupid to realize when someone’s playing you for a fool._ )

 

It’s worse, though, Naruto realizes as he slowly rolls the scroll back up and slings it across his back. It’s worse, because for a brief, shining moment, he actually thought that Mizuki believed in him.

 

‘Naruto,’ Iruka-sensei is saying, but it sounds muted and far away in his ears. ‘Run to the Tower. Take the scroll back, apologize to Sandaime-sama, and we’ll have a long talk later about what you did tonight.’ There’s a kunai glittering in Iruka’s hand, and Naruto briefly wonders how it got there.

 

Mizuki snorts from across the clearing. ‘I don’t know why you’re defending it, Iruka. You’ve gotten soft.’ He reaches over his shoulder and unhooks one of the shuriken, almost idly shifting into a throwing stance, his lip curling into a crooked smile that didn’t seem as friendly or charming in the dim moonlight. A practiced flick of the thumb, and the shuriken is spinning in his hand. ‘Hey, Naruto. Don’t you want to know why everyone _hates you?’_

 

‘No, I don’t give--I don’t give a rat’s ass--’ Naruto stutters.

 

‘Naruto, don’t listen to him. He’s trying to manipulate you for the scroll. Don’t fall for it. Run. Go.’ Iruka’s voice is urgent and low, and if Naruto didn’t know any better, he’d swear that there was a note of panic threaded through it. ‘Go, _now.’_

 

‘It’s because you’re a _demon,_ ’ Mizuki snarls, an almost gleeful glint in his eyes. ‘You’re the _Nine-Tailed Fox,_ Naruto.’

 

The shattered, splintered thing in his gut twists painfully, and Naruto recognizes somehow that Mizuki is telling the truth for the first time tonight. Everything slowly clicks into place. The whispers of _demon_ when he’s barely in earshot. The way people looked at him on adoption days at the orphanage, then passed him over for other kids. The ANBU he remembers following him as a child.

 

The dreams of giant, flaming red eyes watching him from a golden cage in the dark.

 

Mizuki’s smile grows wider and sharper. ‘The Yondaime--’

 

Iruka interrupts. ‘Don’t _listen to him, Naruto--’_

 

‘--the Yondaime, he _died_ sealing the Kyuubi into you. _You killed him, Naruto, you killed all those people--’_

 

‘--Mizuki, _stop, he’s--_ ’

 

‘--you killed _Iruka’s parents.’_

 

Iruka pauses.

 

And Naruto remembers. He remembers Iruka telling him _I’m an orphan too, you know,_ over a bowl of ramen late one night. _My parents died the night of the Fox attack._

 

He did that.

 

Mizuki _moves_ and there’s a terrifying shrieking sound as the shuriken flies from Mizuki’s hands, whirling straight towards Naruto. Iruka is screaming at him to run, he tries to move, he tries to dodge, he tries to do _anything_ , but it’s like his feet are bolted to the ground. His legs jerk awkwardly and he twists around, falling straight on his face, it’s too late to scramble away--

 

There’s a sickening, wet _thud,_ a pained grunt, and a cruel laugh from Mizuki. ‘Honestly, Iruka. It’s incredible that you’re defending that thing.’

 

Naruto’s head whips around. Iruka is crouched protectively over him, Mizuki’s shuriken embedded in his back. _Why,_ Naruto wants to whisper, and maybe he managed to say it out loud, because Iruka answers. ‘Because we’re the same. You were so--’ A rattling cough wracks Iruka’s body, and blood flecks his flak vest as the chuunin hauls himself to his feet. ‘My parents died. And nobody paid any attention to me, either. I was so lonely. And you are too, aren’t you?’

 

 _I’m so lonely, I’m so sorry,_ Naruto wants to say. _I didn’t realize. I just wanted to be a shinobi. I just wanted to be strong._ ‘He’s going to kill you,’ he says instead.

 

Naruto can barely see Iruka’s grimace as the man turns to face Mizuki, but he can hear it in his voice. ‘I know. _Run_.’

 

He wants to fight. He wants to help fix his mistake. He wants to make it up to Iruka somehow.

 

But he runs instead.

 

______________________________________________________

 

Naruto is _absolutely_ not crying.

 

He scrubs tears from his face as he tears through the underbrush, forgoing any attempts at subtlety as he tries to put distance between himself and Mizuki. It feels like he’s been running for hours, but it’s probably only been minutes, if even that. His mind is whirling and he’s so dizzy and the tiny voice in his heart is laughing at him--

 

The voice. Oh. The _voice._

 

He’s heard it all his life, but recently, it’s been easier to understand. When he was little, it was less of a voice and more of a feeling. As he grew older and older, he could hear it better and better. At first he thought it was normal, that everyone had something like that. And then he thought it was because he was lonely, and he’d made up a friend that lived in his heart.

 

But now he thinks it might be the influence of the Fox.

 

(The voice is laughing now. It’s loud, louder than it’s ever been before, it’s angry and it just won’t shut up.)

 

There’s an enraged howl from Mizuki, muffled by foliage and distance, and Iruka suddenly crashes through a bush next to Naruto. ‘I--sensei, I’m--I’m so--’

 

Iruka’s hands fly through the henge signs-- _dog boar ram_ \--and suddenly, Naruto is looking into his own face. ‘Hide,’ Iruka hisses, and Naruto can barely hear his sensei’s voice layered underneath his own.

 

He should stand his own next to Iruka, but his traitorous legs run around the base of a tree and collapse under him. Naruto can barely hear what happens next over his own panicked breathing, it sounds like maybe Mizuki tried to henge himself into Iruka to get the scroll from Naruto--

 

The tree shakes as something crashes into it, and Mizuki is yelling at Iruka now. ‘He’s going to use the scroll, Iruka, just like he’s taking advantage of you! The Fox--’

 

‘You’re right,’ Iruka chokes out, and Naruto’s world spins out from underneath him. The voice abruptly stops laughing, and the silence in Naruto’s head is heavy and terrible, but it’s nowhere near as dark as the yawning pit in his stomach. Iruka hates him. He killed Iruka’s parents, and Iruka hates him for it, how could he not--

 

‘You’re right,’ Iruka repeats. ‘The Fox would take advantage of me. _But Naruto isn’t the Fox.’_

 

What happens next is a messy, painful blur. Naruto barely recognizes that his legs are moving until he’s standing in between Iruka and Mizuki. His arms are splayed out awkwardly in front of him, reaching for Mizuki, who is taking rattling, gasping breaths through bloody teeth. Iruka is also breathing heavily, but he sounds much better than Mizuki does. And for good reason.

 

There’s a giant golden chain coming out of Naruto’s right hand. It’s covered in spikes, and it’s soft, sunshine-yellow light is pulsing in time with Naruto’s heartbeat. The chain is taut, drawn straight as an arrow through the clearing, straight to Mizuki’s chest. Not just _to_ his chest. _Through_ it. It pools on the ground behind Mizuki, coated in bright red blood.

 

Mizuki falls to his knees. Then pitches forward to the ground. Then takes a strained breath.

 

And dies.

 

( _Like mother, like son,_ whispers the Fox.)

 

The chain shatters, each link crumbling to golden, sparkling dust that swirls away in the slight evening breeze. Naruto slowly turns to Iruka, whose face is slack with bewilderment. ‘What the hell was that,’ he manages to say, and promptly passes out.


	2. ii-iruka

Iruka tries not to hyperventilate as his student crumples bonelessly to the ground in front of him. He reflexively triggers a shunshin to Naruto’s side, fingers digging at the child’s neck, and he almost passes out himself when he finds a weak, thready pulse. Naruto’s hands feel clammy and cold, his breathing is slightly labored; symptoms of chakra exhaustion. Quite a feat for an Uzumaki, let alone a Jinchuuriki.

 

But then again, Adamantine Chains of any form were a major chakra drain, even for people with enormous chakra pools like those found in Naruto’s clan. According to rumor, they were considered a chuunin level jutsu or higher in Uzushio, where Kage Bunshin were commonplace and used by genin. It was no small wonder that Naruto had performed the technique without killing himself from the strain. And the fact that he used it instinctively, with no prior training? Iruka has to wonder what could be if Naruto actually masters this ability.

 

He gently bundles Naruto’s limp body into his arms and staggers upright. There’s a bright-hot stab of pain in his back, and he winces as the tacky, blood-soaked fabric of his shirt drags across his skin. Suddenly, the world swirls around him, and he quickly stumbles back against a tree and drops to the ground before laying Naruto back down. The absolute last thing Naruto needs right now is for Iruka to pass out and drop him on his head.

 

The tree canopy above him rustles softly in the gentle breeze, and for a moment, he stares at the stars through the gap in the branches. It’s a nice evening: if he could ignore the unconscious child breathing raggedly in his lap and the cloying smell of slowly drying blood in his nostrils, he could almost imagine taking a peaceful nap in this clearing.

 

Maybe if he just laid his head down for a moment...

 

The world does another twirling dance, and Iruka belatedly realizes that the adrenaline brought on by the fight with Mizuki must be dropping away. His limbs are growing heavy, and he’s not sure he can lift Naruto while he’s in this state. They both need medical attention soon, and he debates whether or not he can make the journey to the hospital with another shunshin. He used an awful lot of chakra in his tussle with Mizuki, and if he miscalculates the chakra needed for a longer jump, he might pass out halfway through the jutsu. That never ended well.

 

Ok, so he can’t shunshin. Bad idea. He does not want to end up glitched through a wall. (He’s not entirely sure that’s a thing that can happen, but it’s something he forcefully tells his students every year to prevent them from trying to shunshin before they’re ready.) He can’t treewalk either. Or normal walk, come to think of it, not carrying Naruto anyways. He could leave Naruto here under a simple camouflage genjutsu, go for help--

 

The debate is cut short by the arrival of several ANBU. He doesn’t know their identities, as per ANBU tradition, and his brain is fuzzy enough from blood-loss and the adrenaline crash that he’s barely able to make out what animal their masks portray. Cat, Monkey. Maybe Sparrow? Hard to say. ‘Mizuki set him up,’ he mumbles, fighting hard against the encroaching dark that flickers at the edge of his vision.

 

Maybe-Sparrow nods once, sharp. _Understood. Hokage ordered unit here, back you up. Need medical attention?_ they sign in Konoha hand-signs. He nods mutely, and feels a pair of arms gently lift Naruto from his lap. His vision dances as he swings his head around (is he moving fast or slow? He can’t tell,) to see Monkey heave Naruto up. Naruto is pale and motionless in the moonlight, and he looks dea-- _nope, not finishing that thought, you know he’s not._

 

He looks back around, and sees that Maybe-Sparrow’s signing at him again. He scrunches his face in thought as he tries to parse what they’re saying. _Mission complete, good job dispatching traitor._ Oh. They thought _he_ killed Mizuki. Which means they didn’t see the fight.

 

He doesn’t know why he finds this so important, but he does. It’s one of the last thoughts he has before passing out.

 

* * *

 

When he wakes up, the Hokage himself is there.

 

‘Sandaime-sama,’ he rasps, hauling himself into a sitting position and frowning as an IV line tugs uncomfortably against his arm.

 

‘Iruka-kun,’ the Hokage replies cheerfully, holding out a cup. ‘The healers said you’d wake up soon, so I took the liberty of getting you some ice chips. Slowly, boy, don’t speak until you’ve had some.’ As Iruka takes the offered cup, he sighs and settles deeper into the chair at Iruka’s bedside. ‘In answer to the questions you undoubtedly have, you’ve been unconscious for three days. Team assignments for the Academy students have been decided, but the announcement will not be made for another four days. I’m afraid you missed the Graduation ceremony, and I’ve been asked to pass along the well-wishes of your students. As far as the general public knows, there was an altercation involving the Scroll, you, and Mizuki. They do not know how he died, or what he was attempting to do, but needless to say, everyone is gossiping about the details.’ He peers at Iruka over steepled fingers. ‘I myself am also rather curious.’

 

Iruka tucks an ice chip into his cheek and clears his throat. ‘Mizuki manipulated Naruto into stealing the Scroll, Hokage-sama. He took advantage of Naruto’s...failure to graduate. Naruto was under the impression that if he stole the scroll and learned a jutsu, Mizuki would grant him a provisional graduation. I believe Mizuki thought he could easily steal the scroll from Naruto and leave Konoha before anyone caught on.’

 

The Hokage grunts, shifting in his chair once more. ‘Hm. That lines up with intel we received. One of our off-duty ANBU overheard Mizuki speaking with Naruto about the scroll and reported it shortly after the hunt for Naruto started.’ There’s something about the way Sarutobi won’t quite meet his eyes, something that reminds him of a student with a minor secret they’re not quite hiding, but also not quite telling. ‘But we’re not certain how he died. The autopsy indicated that his chakra pathways in his heart had been burnt clean away, in addition to some sort of impalement or stab through his chest. Perhaps you can shed some light on that?’

 

An involuntary spasm clutches at Iruka’s gut as he realizes that the Hokage has no clue about Naruto’s involvement with Mizuki’s death. And if the Hokage doesn’t know, nobody in the village does. Once the Hokage learns about Naruto’s new ability, he’ll have to take measures to protect Naruto from being stolen by another village. Jinchuuriki were rare prizes: those with unique abilities even moreso. If Naruto’s chains are discovered, it’s quite probable that the Hokage and the Council will never allow Naruto to leave Konoha’s walls.

 

Traditionally, Konoha Jinchuuriki do not fight as shinobi. Officially, it is because they are already giving their lives in service to Konoha by holding the Kyuubi at bay. Unofficially, Konoha only holds one Jinchuuriki instead of two like most major Hidden Villages do. If a Jinchuuriki of the Kyuubi dies in battle, it may be decades before the bijuu forms again, decades in which Konoha will be vulnerable to attack. If the Jinchuuriki is stolen, it is likely that Konoha will never get the Kyuubi back.

 

He’s talked about it with the Hokage, from time to time, what Naruto’s role is expected to be. As Naruto’s sensei, he’s privy to slightly more information on the situation than the average Konoha citizen or shinobi. From what he’s been told of Naruto’s seal, it’s not one typically used by Konoha Sealmasters: the Yondaime had sealed the Kyuubi in Naruto with an Eight Trigrams Seal, meaning that the Kyuubi’s chakra intermingles with Naruto’s more than it would with the traditional bijuu seals. The Council, upon learning this, apparently wanted to see if Naruto could take on a role closer to those found in other Hidden Villages: a weapon.

 

Iruka stuffs a few more ice chips in his mouth to buy time for the decision now in his hands. Naruto is a valuable asset to Konoha, either way, but what he says today in this room will shape Naruto’s future. If he tells the Hokage about Naruto’s chains, it might be the tipping point for the Council, and they might place Naruto on lockdown for the rest of his life. If he lies-- _no, Iruka, soften the blow, you’re not_ lying _so much as not telling the truth right this second--_ if he doesn’t tell the truth right this second, Naruto might use the chains incorrectly or succumb to chakra exhaustion in the field, which would spell death for Naruto and a lost bijuu for the Village.

 

What he needs to consider right this second is which path would be best for Naruto. A safe, guarded life, trapped in a village with civilians who hate him and shinobi who ignore him? Or a potentially dangerous career as a shinobi, with the freedom to choose his path?

 

He crunches the ice chips and swallows them along with his misgivings. ‘The truth about what happened in the forest, Hokage-sama…’

 

* * *

 

Naruto is by no means a large boy.

 

His spirit and his voice are enormous, but his body is absolutely dwarfed by the hospital bed he currently occupies. Iruka thinks it might be malnutrition to blame for Naruto’s slight frame. He remembers how Naruto always eats as if it were his last day on Earth whenever Iruka takes him out for ramen. He tries not to think about how he could have done more to ensure that he’s got enough food to eat.

 

The healers work around Iruka, and he can tell they’re disgruntled with his presence, but they let him be as they tend to Naruto. ‘He’s showing signs of waking soon,’ one medic-nin tells him. ‘Might be connected to the you-know-what, but his chakra’s bouncing back a lot quicker than we anticipated.’

 

Iruka thanks the healer, then turns his attention back to the sudoku booklet he’s been picking at while waiting on Naruto’s recovery. The entire left half of the page he’s working on is a grey mass of poorly erased scribbles, and he huffs a sigh. Number puzzles aren’t enough to distract him from how small and fragile Naruto looks right now. Iruka wonders if he’s always been this tiny or if the past few days have just thrown into sharp relief just how mortal his student is.

 

The door slides open and closed behind him, and soft footsteps echo through the room. A small voice says ‘Oh!’ and Iruka turns in his chair to see a slightly puzzled looking Hyuuga Hinata standing several feet away, clutching a corner of her jacket in nervous, twisting hands. ‘I--wasn’t e-expecting anyone to be here--I should--go--’

 

He hopes his confusion isn’t showing too much as he smiles gently at her. ‘No, Hinata, you’re fine. You’re the only one of Naruto’s peers to visit, you know?’

 

She nods hesitantly and shuffles forward, her hands still wringing at her coat. ‘I-I don’t know why the o-others don’t--see him.’

 

‘They’re probably too busy preparing for their team assignments,’ Iruka murmurs.

 

‘No, I don’t mean _visiting_ him,’ she says, her voice uncharastically strong and loud for a moment before dropping down to her usual tone and cadence. ‘I--I mean, I d-don’t know why they d-don’t _see_ him. H-how nice he is. He c-could be--he could be v-very mean, i-if he wanted. But he’s not. A-and I don’t u-understand why p-people hate him?’

 

A few years ago, he had understood why people hated Naruto. He’d hated him, too. And when he was assigned to teach Naruto’s homeroom class at the Academy, he’d been absolutely livid, even going so far as to approach the Hokage and ask for another assignment. When Sarutobi had denied his request, he’d hung his head in defeat and accepted his fate.

 

On the first day of class, one of his coworkers had taken him aside before class and placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. ‘Iruka,’ he’d droned. ‘You did good on your teacher’s exams, you have all the knowledge and know-how, and you have a lot of potential. For some reason, the Hokage has taken a shine to you, and Sage knows the man has a good eye for teachers with talent. But you don’t have the _experience_ yet. So let me give you some advice up-front. Ignore the demon-brat. Don’t let his pranks get to you. Don’t acknowledge him. Don’t even look at him. Just grade his assignments and report his behavior to the Hokage.’

 

He’d heard the horror stories about Naruto. Brash, loud, destructive. Prone to derailing lessons and distracting his classmates. And Naruto certainly lived up to the rumors. Within two minutes of Iruka entering the classroom, he’d discovered a tack placed on his stool, a rudimentary and very unflattering picture of himself scrawled all over the board, and a very wiggly and giggly Uzumaki Naruto, waving chalk-dusted hands in the air gleefully as he crowed, ‘Are you going to put me in the hall?’

 

Iruka had taken a deep breath in, released it back out, and began teaching the lesson as if nothing had happened.

 

Over the course of the next month, he and Naruto had played a simple yet infuriating game, in which Naruto would attempt to get a reaction out of Iruka, and Iruka would studiously ignore him in favor of teaching the rest of the class. The pattern continued on and on, until one particularly nasty streak that ended with Naruto becoming so frustrated he skipped class for a week.

 

On the final day, Naruto was still absent. ‘I take it Naruto is still out?’ Iruka had sighed, flopping the roll sheet down on his podium.

 

Shikamaru, in a rare display of proactiveness, had raised his hand. ‘He went out to the hills, where the battle was the other day. Hibachi said he could be a part of his group if he brought back a kunai from the battlefield.’ Hibachi had spluttered and immediately protested his innocence, demanding Shikamaru take it back, but the Nara heir had already laid his head down on his desk and was snoring lightly.

 

‘You all have a free period to study,’ Iruka had barked, already out the door.

 

When he found Naruto, the boy had a kunai clutched in his white-knuckled fist and three enemy nin hot on his heels.

 

After the inevitable chase and fight, he’d smacked Naruto upside the head. ‘What were you thinking? You could have been _killed,_ ’ he snapped.

 

‘I-I just wanted friends,’ Naruto had replied in a small voice, staring at the ground and hugging the kunai to his chest like it was a lifeline and not a sharp weapon capable of maiming or hurting someone.

 

Iruka had paused. ‘If you come back to the Academy--’

 

‘Nothing will change!’ Naruto had cried out, his blue gaze flashing up into Iruka’s own, then returning to the ground. ‘Nothing ever changes. Everyone’s always gonna hate me. I don’t even know what I did, but I thought that maybe--’ There was a sniff that sounded suspiciously like Naruto was on the edge of tears. ‘I dunno, I thought maybe if people paid more attention to me, they’d see that I’m not bad.’

 

And everything had clicked into place. He understood everything clearly, so very clearly, because he’d been in Naruto’s place not too long before. A sad, lonely child, with nothing but a loud voice and a bold personality to make them stand out. Of course he’d turned to pranks. It was what Iruka had done when he was that age, too. And it hadn’t been until Sarutobi had started paying real attention, good attention to him that he’d bloomed into the shinobi he was today.

 

‘Ah,’ Iruka had said. ‘I see. Would you like some ramen?’

 

Now, he shakes himself out of his reverie and places the sudoku booklet down on the side table. ‘You’re right, Hinata, they don’t see him. And I think that’s why they hate him.’

 

* * *

 

Ironically, Iruka is asleep when Naruto finally wakes up.

 

Naruto quickly rectifies this by poking Iruka in the ribs, none too gently. Iruka hisses, curling in on himself reflexively. ‘What did you do that fo--Naruto! You’re awake!’ He sweeps the boy in a crushing hug, ignoring the slight twinge between his shoulder blades.

 

‘I’m awake,’ Naruto replies, his voice muffled by Iruka’s shirt. ‘We’re alive.’

 

‘Not for lack of you trying.’

 

There’s a muffled giggle, and then Naruto wriggles out of his grasp. ‘So. Uh. Is the Scroll…?’

 

‘Safe and sound in Hokage Tower.’ Iruka ruffles Naruto’s hair. ‘Again, not for lack of you trying. Let this be a lesson, Naruto, if you ever have reason to doubt something a superior tells you, or if something seems off about an order you recieve, you take it farther up the chain and verify it.’

 

Naruto’s grin is sheepish as he bats Iruka’s hand away from his head. ‘Yes, Sensei.’

 

‘Also, If you ever nearly die on me again, I’m killing you.’

 

‘That seems counterintuitive,’ Naruto laughs, poking Iruka in the ribs again.

 

‘Your reading score isn’t nearly high enough for you to be using words like ‘ _counterintuitive’_ ,’ Iruka teases.

 

‘Sakura-chan uses big words a lot and I have ears.’ Naruto suddenly sobers. ‘But you’re right, I’m no good at reading. I couldn’t even manage a stupid bunshin from the scroll.’

 

Iruka snorts. ‘That technique is for chuunin and up, Naruto. It takes a _massive_ amount of chakra, and many shinobi simply don’t have enough to make even one. If you had managed to perform a Kage Bunshin, you might have keeled over and died of chakra exhaustion on the spot.’ He taps his chin. ‘Although, you _are_ an Uzumaki, so you might have enough chakra to pull it off. We never did get your reserves tested, did we?’

 

‘Damn right I could have pulled it--wait, what do you mean I’m an Uzumaki?’ Naruto’s head is tilted and his eyebrows are scrunched together. ‘I thought that was just a made-up name the orphanage gave me when they took me in. Are there more--do I have--’

 

His breath catches in his chest as what Naruto is saying registers in Iruka’s mind. He knows that many things have been kept from Naruto, but his heritage as an Uzumaki? He’d always assumed Naruto had known his clan’s history. ‘The Uzumaki clan,’ he begins, and Sage if Naruto’s eyes don’t shine with wonder at that, ‘lived in Uzushiogakure, in Whirlpool Country. They specialized in sealing demons, and they were said to live extraordinarily long lives. One of their clan techniques was a sealing jutsu called Adamantine Chains.’

 

Naruto’s eyes are the size of dinner plates as he scoots closer to Iruka. ‘Adamantine Chains,’ he breathes. ‘Is that what I--’

 

‘Yes,’ Iruka says simply. ‘It is. And Naruto, this is _important,_ you _cannot let anybody know._ Not yet. Not until you’ve mastered them. _’_

 

The wonder in Naruto’s eyes abruptly withers and dies. ‘What?! But Iruka-sensei--’

 

‘ _Listen to me, Naruto,_ ’ Iruka says in his best This-Will-Be-On-The-Test voice. ‘The Uzumaki Clan lived in Uzushiogakure. Do you remember what happened to Uzushio?’

 

‘It...vanished?’

 

‘It got _destroyed_ ,’ corrects Iruka. ‘It got destroyed by Kumo and Kiri in one night. The Uzumaki were massacred because of their seals. And their chains. There were some survivors who fled here, to Konoha, and one or both of your parents must have been one of those survivors.’ He takes a deep, steadying breath. ‘The...Fox destroyed the Uzumaki compound in the attack. You were found there, with the Yondaime. And the seal.’

 

Naruto’s gaze is focused in the middle distance, his teeth worrying his lower lip. ‘So...people might want to kill me because I’m an Uzumaki.’

 

‘Worse.’ Iruka hopes his grim face and tone convey how serious the situation is to Naruto. ‘You are the guardian of the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox, which means you hold a lot of power. You also have a very rare ability, one that nobody else in this village or this country or possibly even the world has. People aren’t going to want to kill you, Naruto, they’re going to want to use you.’

 

'Okay, so I gotta be careful about people outside Konoha figuring out who I am. That's easy, I just gotta--'

 

'Naruto, you can't tell  _anybody._ Not even in Konoha. Not even the Hokage. Not yet.' He takes a deep breath. 'I told Sandaime-sama that I killed Mizuki in a struggle for the scroll. I told him you attempted the Kage Bunshin in order to assist me, and I told him absolutely nothing about your chains. Because the second he finds out, he's going to have to tell the ANBU and the Council, and one or both of those parties will gossip about it with others, and then the civilians will catch wind of it. And once the general public knows something, you might as well just send a messenger-hawk to the other Villages to tell them all about it, because civilians will talk about it to merchants who travel between countries. If that happens, they'll never let you out of the village. Ever.' 

 

The silence in the room is deafening, and Iruka bites down on the urge to clear his throat as Naruto processes what Iruka has told him. ‘Will I ever be able to tell anybody? What I can do?’ There’s a desperate tone in the boy’s voice, and Iruka can only guess at the frustration that Naruto may be feeling at this moment in time. The lonely kid who’s constantly seeking any sort of acknowledgement or attention, finally handed a power that could put his name on the map, only to learn that to do so would place him in danger.

 

‘Eventually, yes. But only after you’ve mastered it well enough to use in combat.’

 

Naruto perks back up at that. ‘You think I’ll be able to?’

 

‘Naruto,’ says Iruka gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. ‘I _know_ you’ll be able to. And I’ll be there for you, every step of the way. We’ll figure this out together.’

 

It’s like the sun bursts in Naruto’s eyes. ‘Okay,’ he whispers hoarsely. ‘Okay. I promise I’ll graduate this coming semester, and I’ll train real hard, and I’ll be the best shinobi ever so I can show the world what I got.’

 

‘About that,’ Iruka says, leaning down to a bag on the floor. ‘Close your eyes for a second.’

 

‘Uh, okay?’ Naruto scrunches his eyes closed, patting the bedsheets of his bed absently. ‘This seems weird. You better not do anything weird. You’re going to do something weird, aren’t you?’

 

Iruka laughs softly as he fishes out what he was looking for. ‘Nothing weird. Just something you’ve earned. You know about the Will of Fire, right?

 

‘Yeah, the whole thing where the village comes first or something.’

 

‘That’s…one interpretation of it. But my sensei, the one who helped me find who I was and what I wanted to do with my life, he thinks of it another way. The Will of Fire runs deeper than loyalty to Konoha. It dates back to the Founders of the Hidden Villages: Iwa has a similar Will of Stone. The Will of Fire is the willingness to fight for what you believe in, the strength to work for a better future for your village, and the bravery to protect the people most precious to you. And you fought well, Naruto. I can see the Will of Fire in you.’

 

‘You lied, this is kind of weird,’ Naruto laughs weakly.

 

He places the object gently on Naruto’s lap. ‘You can open your eyes now.’

 

He’s pretty sure Naruto’s joyous shriek can be heard outside the hospital walls, and Iruka makes a mental note to requisition a new hitai-ate. He doesn’t want to separate his old one from it’s new owner, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> iruka: naruto can you maybe chill  
> naruto: how about maybe YOU chill
> 
> anyways there's nothing like writing a good 7,000 words and then realizing you've forgotten naruto's verbal tic. OOPS SHRUG.EMOJI
> 
>  
> 
> thanks for reading!!


	3. iii-kakashi

It was that time of year again, and Hatake Kakashi is absolutely dreading his team assignment.

 

Three years ago, the Hokage took him out of ANBU and started trying to give him genin teams. _Trying_ being the key word, as he’s rejected every band of snot-nosed brats they toss his direction. He knows he has a reputation for being a hard-ass amongst the genin corps now, but he can’t be bothered to care about it. They’re better off this way.

 

But this year? This year is going to be different. This year he _has_ to take his team on, because this year, he’s going to get Uchiha Sasuke. The Council will not let that child be anything but a shinobi, and as the only Sharingan user loyal to Konoha, he is duty-bound to be the sensei of the last Uchiha. If he rejects this team, it’s the end of his career. And Sage knows he can’t do anything but be a shinobi.

 

He’s been keeping up with the rankings, and as things stand, his team is going to be dismal. Sasuke is at the very front of the pack, which by Konoha tradition, means he’s going to get the Genius-Idiot Dream Team. They _always_ pair the head of the class with the Dead Last, and since Uzumaki Naruto didn’t pass his graduation exam again, the honor of village idiot goes to Inuzuka Kiba.  

 

Teaching them isn’t going to be the issue. Sasuke, from what he’s heard, is a jutsu sponge, even without an active Sharingan. Depending on his element release, he might even be able to pass on Chidori, if Sasuke ever activates his Kekkei Genkai. There are a few tricks and techniques he might be able to pass on to Kiba (the Hatake and Inukuza clans share so many traits that sometimes enemy nin will try to goad him in battle by calling him an illegitimate Inuzuka bastard. The idiots writing the Bingo Books for other villages can’t even be assed to do their research), but the real challenge is going to be getting the team to cohere as a unit.

 

If they were _truly_ going by rankings, he’d be getting Yamanaka Ino as the third addition, but he knows that the brass are loathe to break up the Ino-Shika-Cho team. Asuma’s probably getting those hellions, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Kurenai gets them. (If it were up to _him_ , he’d give them to Kurenai. Sure, Asuma’s known for thinking five to thirty-fuckin-thousand steps ahead at all times, but battle plans only get you so far. Kurenai is a genjutsu expert, someone who must always tailor her jutsu to her opponent with little to no forward planning. What the Ino-Shika-Cho team needs is someone who can teach them to think on the fly. It’s the Hyuuga heiress and the Aburame heir that need Asuma’s guidance the most, especially considering they might be forced to take on an older genin whose teammates have already made chuunin.)

 

No, they’re fudging the rankings so Ino-Shika-Cho stays together, and that lands Haruno Sakura on his team. And she’s a puzzle. Civilian-born, no clan, very book-smart but no other outstanding remarks on her record. Or any remarks, really. She’s a blank slate, and thus a giant hole in his knowledge of how well this unit is going to come together.

 

Without knowing how Sakura will mesh with Sasuke and Kiba, Kakashi is in the dark about how he needs to approach testing them. He’s considering the bell test, but he doesn’t feel like that’s quite right with Kiba and Sakura in the mix. Kiba has been practicing teamwork for the better part of three years, with his ninken, so he already has a small advantage in the test. And Sakura will be at a harsh disadvantage, considering that Kiba and Sauske will have at least one tie in that they’re both Clan children. Not to mention that literally every team he’s tested has failed the bell test, and if Sasuke fails, there will be hell to pay.

 

No, he just needs to wait until the Sandaime meets with him and takes him to meet their families. Then he can work out a better plan for the Genin Test.

 

The Hokage’s assistant, a slight, mousy man who Kakashi never bothered to learn the name of, pokes their head out of Sarutobi’s office. ‘Sandaime-sama’s ready for you, Hatake-san.’ Kakashi grunts, nodding in acknowledgement before levering himself up from where he’s been sitting in the hallway. Mouse-assistant scurries off before Kakashi enters the office, a clipboard clutched to his chest and glasses slipping precariously down his nose.

 

‘Hokage-sama,’ Kakashi greets politely, ambling up to the large mahogany desk that dominates the room. The stinging cloud of tobacco that constantly hovers around Sarutobi assaults Kakashi’s senses, and he’s grateful that his mask muffles the acrid smell. ‘I’m assuming my genin team assignment has been finalized.’

 

Sarutobi laughs dryly, tapping the ash from his pipe. ‘Yes, indeed. It took a while, as we had a...surprise nomination at the last moment.’

 

Kakashi’s mask negates the need for him to suppress the grimace that crosses his face, but he does it anyway from sheer force of habit. Great, the teams are unbalanced again. What little planning he’s managed to scrape together for this team has just flown straight out the window. ‘Oh? That’s rare, especially this late after graduation.’

 

‘Hm.’ The pipe returns to Sarutobi’s mouth, and he takes a puff. ‘You are hereby assigned guardianship of Team 7.’

 

Wielders of the Sharingan have a naturally occuring eidetic memory, one governed by and intrinsically tied to emotion. Certain phrases, sights, or smells will call up perfectly rendered memories, and those memories are accompanied by associated feelings. Most people say it’s an amazing trait, but when the Uchiha wrote about it in personal accounts, they cursed it. When Obito gifted Kakashi his eye, he gained the eidetic memory as well, but only in Obito’s eye. It took him the better part of five years to become accustomed to the onslaught of images and emotions called up seemingly at random. It can even pull memories from his early childhood, from before Obito gave him the Sharingan.

 

He understands why the Uchiha hated it. Because right now Obito’s eye is showing him his old team.

 

Minato-sensei carves a delicate seal into the handle of a kunai, his tongue between his teeth. Rin and Obito run towards him, laughing as Kushina barrels towards them, eyes aflame as she bellows curses for whatever prank Obito’s pulled this time. His father’s tanto shatters before his eyes, Obito’s hand grows limp in Rin’s, Rin’s eyes grow dull as his lightning blazes through her--

 

It lasts no longer than a heartbeat. He forces himself to stay still and slouched and passive as the memories fade to nothing.

 

‘Team 7 is comprised of Uchiha Sasuke, Haruno Sakura,’ Sarutobi blows smoke from his nostrils with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, ‘and Uzumaki Naruto.’

 

‘What,’ Kakashi blurts, forgetting his lackadaisy persona for a moment and starting, his spine going ramrod-stiff. What? Naruto failed his exam. Flunked it. Can’t even form a bunshin. If he’s put on a battlefield tomorrow with all of his peers, he would be the first to die. Who on _earth_ recommended him?

 

‘Do you swear to take them on if they are worthy?’

 

‘Who nominated Naruto?’ Kakashi demands, ignoring the customary vows he’s supposed to be taking at the moment. ‘I was under the impression that he wasn’t ready. Why is he being considered for genin? What changed?’ It must be the Council. They’re trying to push Naruto into training before he’s ready so he can be a weapon like the other Jinchuuriki. _Fuck._

 

‘Who sponsored Naruto in his bid for genin is none of your concern, as are the circumstances that led to his nomination. Suffice it to say that his sponsor argued in his favor to me, as is their right. I accepted, and that is that.’ Sarutobi intones, his voice dipping dangerously low. It’s clear he’s inviting no arguments on the matter. So it’s almost definitely the Council behind this. ‘Do you, Hatake Kakashi, swear to take them on if they are worthy?’

 

‘I do,’ Kakashi replies, heart heavy in his chest. This is going to be an unmitigated disaster.

 

___________________________________

 

Normally, Kakashi would meet with his upcoming team’s families. But two out of three of his new charges are orphans living on their own, so there’s technically only one family to meet today: the Harunos.

 

Haruno Kizashi is a moderately successful merchant who imports precious metals and jewels from Suna and Iwa, and it shows. The Haruno household is well-furnished and it’s clear that the family is living comfortably, if somewhat erratically. Bookshelves with rare tomes line the walls, there’s a riot of mismatched but expensive furniture crammed into the living room, and there are baubles and bits and bobs crowding every surface. The plush couch that Kakashi can feel himself slowly sinking further and further into is probably worth more than a month of his rent, despite it’s garish green and pink pattern.

 

Haruno Mebuki is a civilian-born kunoichi in the Genin Reserve Corps. He doesn’t remember if Mebuki has seen combat, but he doubts it. She’s old enough to have served during the Third War, but he doesn’t remember seeing any commendations or reports about her. And she’s never made it past genin. Towards the end of the war, genin (kunoichi especially) were kept from the front lines.

 

So it seems that Sakura is not seeking the life of a shinobi at the behest of her parents. It’s common for civilian households to push their children towards the shinobi lifestyle in the hopes that the child will ascend to greatness and carry the family with them. But the Harunos have no need for Sakura to bring money in, and due to Mebuki’s lackluster kunoichi career, they most likely do not harbor any misconceptions about Sakura attaining glory and riches.

 

Which means that Sakura is probably self-driven. Interesting.

 

‘So, you’ll be teaching our little Sakura,’ booms Kizashi cheerfully, handing Kakashi a brimming cup of tea. Kakashi does not exactly _wince_ at the man’s exuberance, but it’s a close thing. He hopes Kizashi won’t take offense if he doesn’t drink the tea: he just watched the other man pile three cubes of sugar into the cup before thrusting it his way. ‘We’re very proud of her! Tell me, who are her teammates?’

 

Mebuki smacks her husband’s shoulder. ‘ _Zashi,_ they can’t tell us, not until the announcement. She’s very excited,’ she says, turning to Sarutobi. ‘Can’t stop talking about it. I take it she’ll start on D-ranks?’ Ah, scratch his earlier assessment. She has seen combat. Between the false cheer and hopeful tone when she asked about the D-ranks, she’s practically screaming that she doesn’t want her child on the battlefield anytime soon. Kizashi has the same underlying tension: his cheer is a touch too strained, his hands shake slightly as he pours a cup of tea for himself.

 

‘Sakura-chan will be starting on D-ranks, yes, but it’s my hope that she and her teammates will take part in the upcoming Chuunin Exams,’ the Hokage replies smoothly, and _that’s_ news to Kakashi. The Chuunin Exams are in a little over half a year, and whipping a fresh genin team into shape for that is going to be no mean feat. He remains stock-still however, a feat that Mebuki doesn’t quite manage. No wonder she didn’t make it past genin, if she can’t hide her reactions. ‘Rest assured, if they are not prepared for it, they will not be entered, but it would be a good mark on her record to advance quickly.’

 

‘Ah,’ Kizashi says, his tone subdued ever so slightly. ‘That’s. We look forward to supporting her.’

 

And happily, Kakashi hears a thread of truth winding through his voice. Whatever Sakura’s path, her parents will support her. She’s lucky to have them. ‘As do I,’ he says, struggling out of the veritable swamp of couch cushions and bowing deeply. ‘I swear to you, I will guide your daughter the best I can.’

 

‘I’ll hold you to that,’ Mebuki replies, and for the first time today, Kakashi can see the steel in her eyes, hear the winter in her voice, and knows beyond a doubt that she has taken lives and will not hesitate to do so again.

 

* * *

 

The next location on their list is the Uchiha district. There is no family to meet, only a spartan apartment with spartan furnishings. It’s spotless, meticulously organized, and so very, very cold.

 

The Hokage shuffles to the cabinet, peeking inside. ‘As you know, Sasuke-kun has no family.’

 

As Sarutobi offhandedly mentions Sasuke’s family, for a blinding nanosecond Obito’s Sharingan activates and he can see Itachi’s pale, blank face vanishing behind an ANBU mask, he can see the bitter ash and blood choking the streets of the Uchiha compound, and he can feel fresh and new the burning regret that he didn’t catch Itachi’s madness in time.

 

Maybe that’s why the apartment is so bare. Maybe Sasuke is already showing signs of a perfect memory, and maybe he wants to forget.

 

He blinks away the maelstrom of emotion and peers over Sarutobi’s shoulder. ‘Hm. Lots of canned tomatoes.’

 

Sarutobi nods unenthusiastically. ‘If you have questions about Sasuke-kun…’

 

Kakashi lets his gaze flit from the neatly stacked scrolls to the neatly bundled futon then to the neatly painted Uchiha fan dominating the far wall. It feels as if a ghost lives here, if even that. ‘No,’ he says. ‘I don’t.’

 

‘Then on to Naruto.’

 

___________________________________

 

Naruto’s place is the complete and utter anthesis of the Haruno’s house and Sasuke’s apartment. It’s squalid and messy, there are cracks in the ceiling and what Kakashi darkly suspects is black mold creeping up a wall. And it’s _warm._ There are posters lovingly plastered on every surface, a tangle of ratty orange quilts on a rickety bed, and an explosion of houseplants taking up the balcony, sunshine pouring in through the window and casting a golden glow through the leaves.

 

Sarutobi sighs. ‘I _told_ him not to get ramen again.’ The cabinet is open, and it’s full to the brim with instant ramen packs, a far cry from the Haruno’s kitchen, full of spices and teas, or Sasuke’s kitchen, full of canned vegetables and meats that last. Clearly nobody has been teaching this fool child how to cook for himself. He adds ‘food that will prevent you from getting scurvy’ to the list of things to teach.

 

‘How much does he know?’ Kakashi asks softly, and he’s keenly aware that Sarutobi knows he’s not asking about Naruto’s general education.

 

An irritated sigh escapes the Hokage as he sits down heavily on a rickety chair. There’s only one, Kakashi notes sadly. Even Sasuke had a full dining set. ‘He knows about the Fox. Mizuki revealed it to him in an attempt to rile him up. As for his parentage, he’s still in the dark, and it needs to stay that way.’

 

‘Why?’ Kakashi rarely questions Sarutobi these days, but there’s a vision of Minato breathlessly telling Kakashi that Kushina’s pregnant, there’s memories of the absent-minded and pure love radiating from Kushina as she traces the curve of her belly with an idle hand, there’s the heart-wrenching despair when he hears a newborn’s wail above the crackle of fire that consumes Konoha. His memory won’t let him forget who Naruto is, and it’s incredibly unjust that Naruto doesn’t have the slightest clue.

 

‘Naruto is a subtle as a brick wall,’ grumbles Sarutobi, picking up a milk carton and sniffing it. ‘Great Sage, this is rancid. As I was saying, Naruto is not subtle. If he finds out who his father was, he will latch onto that and _brag._ And then the other villages find out, and…’

 

‘And the Raikage pulls his spine out and beats him to death with it.’ Kakashi hates how much sense it makes, hates how he’s going to lie to the boy who could have been a little brother to him.

 

Sarutobi’s frown softens. ‘One day, he will learn. And as his sensei, I think it will fall to you to decide when he’s ready.’

 

‘Hm.’ He takes one last sweeping glance at Naruto’s apartment, soaking in the life that the boy has worked into the cracks and corners of his shadowed existence. ‘Hopefully soon.’

 

* * *

 

The next day, Kakashi is scheduled to meet the team itself. He’s been given a time to show up at the Academy, and the Hokage had given him a pained look when he asked Kakashi to please at least try to show up before noon. It’s one thirty now, and Kakashi is, predictably, lollygagging.

 

‘Hey, guys,’ Kakashi says, staring at the Memorial Stone. ‘Been a bit.’

 

Images rise unbidden, swirling in Obito’s eye. Rin laughing at Obito, saying ‘About time you showed up!’ Minato, waving to him from across the marketplace. Kushina, crushing him in a hug. He blinks, and they all fade.

 

‘So,’ he says, sinking to sit seiza before the Stone. ‘I’ve got a big problem here.’

 

More memories. Minato frowns quizzically at a seal and turns to ask Kushina what she thinks. Rin wraps Obito’s hand in gauze and says ‘Come to me sooner next time, goofball.’ Kushina pours him a cup of tea and asks him what he’s thinking.

 

‘It’s Naruto,’ he begins, and braces himself for the flood of memories. Minato reading a tattered copy of The Gutsy Ninja by the light of a campfire, Rin with a textbook on child-rearing, Kushina grumbling as she props her swollen ankles up on an ottoman. ‘He’s not ready to be a shinobi, but he’s been assigned to my genin team. Team 7, if you would believe it.’ Obito and Minato and Rin all running ahead of him through the forest, flying fast as birds through the golden sunlight filtering through the canopy. ‘I don’t know if I should give him a chance like you did with us, Minato-sensei.’ Obito, tied to a post. Rin, sneaking onigiri to him. Kakashi, refusing to play along. ‘If I do, and he--he dies--’

 

Oddly, the memories fade at that. ‘If he dies, I’ll never forgive myself.’

 

The Sharingan remains dormant for a while, as does he. He’s about ready to heave himself up and go face the music when a thought occurs to him. ‘But if I leave him behind? I don’t think I could forgive myself for that, either.’

 

* * *

 

After what seems like an eternity, he hauls himself to his feet, brushing his pants free of dust and dirt, then shunshins to the Academy’s gate. There’s all sorts of seals and barriers that prevent shinobi from body flickering directly into the Academy; it’s intended to be a civilian shelter during attacks. Only teachers can shunshin in or out of the Academy’s walls. Otherwise he’d just shunshin directly into the classroom to try to get a feel for how his prospective genin team reacts.

 

Kakashi ambles upstairs, taking a turn towards the classroom he’ll be meeting them in, then stops short when he sees an instructor pacing back and forth in the hallway. The instructor turns, sees him, then _bolts_ towards him. He’s a highly trained ANBU veteran with hundreds of solo missions, assassinations, and battles under his belt, and he’s still taken off guard by a schoolteacher barreling into him and triggering a shunshin into--’Is this a _broom closet?’_

 

‘Shhhhhh!’ The schoolteacher hisses, slapping a hand over Kakashi’s mouth and biting the thumb of the other. He reaches past Kakashi’s head, places a hand on the door, and mutters _‘Fuuinjutsu_ : _Himitsu no Ido.’_

 

A very intricate and complicated seal spirals out from his touch, and Kakashi whistles lowly. ‘Very nice, not many people can perform a Well of Secrets Seal without a scroll.’ He peers closer at the schoolteacher and belatedly recognizes him as Umino Iruka, homeroom teacher to his little band of hellions. ‘I assume this is about my genin team.’

 

‘No. Well, yes. Well, mostly.’ Umino is pacing the best he can in the small enclosed space, which is to say not well. ‘It’s about Uzumaki Naruto.’

 

Kakashi glances at the insanely complicated and high-ranking sound barrier seal on the door. ‘I’m guessing this has something to do with the Fox?’

 

‘No. Well, maybe? I don’t know. It’s unclear.’ Umino trips over a mop and seems to give up on the idea of pacing altogether. He takes a deep breath in, then slowly breathes it back out. ‘First, I want to know something. What do you think about him? Naruto, I mean.’

 

That makes Kakashi pause. ‘I haven’t gotten to know him yet,’ he replies slowly. ‘Personally, I mean. I’ve read his file, and I’ve certainly heard the stories about the things he gets up to, but hearing what other people say and reading what other people write about someone are vastly different from actually knowing someone.’

 

This seems to be the correct response, because Umino relaxes almost imperceptibly. ‘Okay. I’m going to be upfront with you, I’ve been on the fence about telling you about all...this--’ he waves his hands wildly ‘--but you’re his jounin-sensei, and if anyone’s going to find out first, it’s you. And you seem willing to get to know him before you make decisions about him, and that’s _very important_.’ Another deep breath, in, then out. ‘He has the Adamantine Chains.’

 

Obito’s Sharingan helpfully flares back up again, spinning him a picture of Kushina lunging forward with teeth bared and golden chains springing towards a sparring opponent. ‘He has the _what?_ How do you know? Has he used them? What did they look like? Big or small?’

 

Umino nods frantically, running a hand over the top of his head and tugging nervously on his ponytail. ‘The scroll incident, a week ago. Mizuki tried to kill both of us but Naruto manifested the chains. I think maybe it was stress? I don’t know. It’s hard to tell. They were. Big. And golden.’

 

‘So that’s why the Hokage put him on a team,’ Kakashi says faintly. Naruto has the Adamantine Chains. He has _his mother’s chains._ Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck. _Fuck._

 

‘Uh, funny you should mention.’ Umino tugs on his ponytail again. ‘Um. The Hokage...doesn’t...know?’

 

Kakashi fights the urge to drag a hand down his face for all of five seconds before giving in and slapping a palm to his cheek. ‘Why. On Earth. Does the Hokage not know?’

 

‘I...uh...kind of lied to him?’

 

‘About the _Jinchuuriki. Of Konoha. Who is possibly the last Uzumaki in existence.’_

 

A faint, sheepish grin creeps onto Iruka’s face. ‘It’s...for a good reason?’

 

Kakashi pours every ounce of his frustration and confusion into one menacing glare. ‘You have exactly five minutes to explain to me, in great detail, why you think the Hokage should not know this very valuable and important information.’

 

‘Well, it’s about the Council. Since his seal is different, they want to use him as a weapon.’ That tracks, even with Danzo on house-arrest. He wouldn’t put it past the others to step up their manipulation games in Danzo’s place. ‘It’s why they put him in the Academy in the first place, instead of teaching him all the traditional Jinchuuriki meditation and isolation junk.’

 

‘Probably doesn’t help that all of Uzumaki Mito’s records were lost in the Kyuubi attack.’

 

‘Right, right. But if Naruto doesn’t show any promise as a shinobi, he’s done. Through. They’ll never let him live a civilian life, and you know it.’

 

‘Still don’t see what this has to do with not telling the Hokage about his chains.’

 

Umino snorts, a frustrated noise. ‘If they find out about his chains, they’ll figure it’ll make him a target. The last Uzumaki is bad enough. A Jinchuuriki on top of that? Even worse. If the world at large figures out he has chakra chains? Everyone will want to steal him.’

 

Kakashi was wrong the other day. If the Raikage figures out the truth about Naruto, he won’t try to kill Naruto. He’ll try to _kidnap_ him. ‘Ah. So you think by keeping it from the Hokage, and by extension the Council, we can give Naruto enough time to establish himself as a shinobi before revealing his chains.’

 

A bright, relieved grin crosses Umino’s face as he snaps his fingers. ‘Yes! Exactly. Give him time to master the chains, coach him on how to avoid showing his hand to enemy nin, give him a choice in all of this.’

 

Obito’s Sharingan spins once more, and shows him a vision of Kushina, frowning unhappily as she waves to them from the gate. ‘Sensei,’ Rin had asked. ‘Kushina’s a jounin too, right? Why doesn’t she go on missions? She’s a strong fighter, she has the chakra chains. We’ve all seen how you two fight together during spars. If you and her fought together on the battlefield…’

 

Minato had grimaced. ‘She’s too valuable,’ he had replied, and none of them had truly understood what he’d meant.

 

He blinks, leaving the moment in the past where it belongs. ‘Ok,’ he says. ‘For Naruto. So he can have a choice.’

 

Umino slumps against a shelf, a box of floor cleaner coming dangerously close to falling onto his head. ‘For Naruto.’

 

___________________________________

 

Kakashi hopes dearly that nobody saw him and Umino scramble out of the broom closet together. He’s got enough on his plate as it is, he doesn’t need rumors of a tryst between the two of them reaching the Hokage’s ears (or Sage forbid, Gai’s.) As he reaches for the door to the classroom, finally about to meet his team, a flash of white-on-black meets his eye at almost ceiling level. Someone has jammed an eraser into the doorframe so it will drop directly on the head of whoever enters the door. _Naruto._ He mentally adds ‘traps’ to the ever-growing list of things to teach his new students.

 

Huffing an exasperated breath, he yanks the door open and steps inside, not even pausing as the eraser makes contact with the top of his head. Three pairs of eyes meet his gaze. Naruto, vibrating with barely contained glee. Sakura, spitting with barely contained rage. And Sasuke, eyes blank and expression neutral as he watches the proceedings with disinterest.

 

‘My first impression,’ Kakashi says. ‘Is that this is going to be interesting.’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> iruka: i didn't know who to trust!!  
> kakashi: AND YOU PICKED /ME/??
> 
> thanks for reading!


	4. iv-sakura

The sun has almost set by the time Sakura drags herself through the front door. ‘I’m home,’ she calls out, halfheartedly nudging her sandals closer to the edge of the genkan with one foot. Sakura’s mom has been on her case lately about leaving her shoes in haphazard piles, and with her current luck, the ‘someone-might-trip-and-fall-and-break-their-neck-Sakura’ scenario might actually come true. She sits down heavily on the genkan’s step, running a hand through her hair.

 

Kizashi bursts into the front hallway, a misshapen cake with pink frosting and sparklers held at arm’s length in front of him. ‘CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR TEAM ASSIGN--oh, Sakura, what’s wrong?’

 

‘Nothing,’ Sakura lies through her teeth as she scrambles upright, forcing a smile on her face. ‘Just tired.’

 

Her father’s left eyebrow shoots straight up as he gives her a deadpan look. ‘You’re as bad at hiding when something’s bothering you as your mother. What’s wrong, little blossom?’

 

Sakura wrinkles her nose at the nickname. ‘Dad, I’m not _little_ anymore. Don’t call me that.’

 

‘Sure thing, not-little-anymore blossom.’

 

‘Ugh, really, Dad?’ she huffs, trying to edge past him to escape up the stairs to her room.

 

‘Ah-ah-ah!’ He nimbly dances around to block the stairs entirely, plopping himself down on the bottom step. ‘No room time until you give your old man the details.’ He thrusts the cake at her, and a glob of icing sloughs off the whole mess and hits the ground with a splat. ‘Does it have anything to do with your team assignment? I know you were hoping to be on a team with that Uchiha boy, but he’s not the only fish in the sea--’

 

‘He’s on my team,’ Sakura replies, taking the plate from her father. ‘But so is Naruto.’

 

‘Oh,’ her father says. ‘I...see. I thought you said he didn’t graduate?’

 

‘He didn’t! Or at least I thought he didn’t. But now he’s on my team, and he doesn’t know _anything_ and he’s just going to drag us down. He tried to trick our jounin-sensei with an eraser in the door today. An _eraser. He tried to trick an elite shinobi with an eraser._ ’ She sighs and sits back down on the genkan step. ‘And on top of that, I think Sasuke-kun hates me.’

 

‘Well,’ scoffs Kizashi. ‘Shows what good his fancy eyes are if he can’t see what a special flower you are.’

 

‘Daaaad,’ Sakura groans, setting the cake down on the floor next to her.

 

‘It’s true,’ he says sagely. ‘I should know, I’ve known you all your life. I feel I am uniquely qualified to comment on the matter. I’m an excellent judge of character, you know. A man’s gotta know how to read people when he deals in precious treasures like you.’

 

If anyone asks, she will adamantly deny the soft giggle that comes out of her mouth. ‘Ugh, why did Mom ever fall for your cheesy jokes?’

 

‘I guess I’m lucky she’s not lactose intolerant.’ He shrugs, then sobers. ‘Back to the Uchiha boy. This is the kid you and Ino-chan fell out over, right?’

 

And holy crap, he’s right. It hadn’t been a huge blowout fight, but she and Ino had definitely drifted apart over their quiet quarrel over who liked him more. She’d been devastated when she realized what was happening, and she knew it was her fault that she and Ino were growing more and more distant with each passing day. It’d been Ino who first suggested that Sasuke-kun was dreamy and talented and perfect. She’d not really understood at the time, but she went along with what Ino said, because Ino was beautiful and funny and smart and tough, so of course she knew what she was talking about. Sakura had thrown herself wholeheartedly into liking Sasuke, but had realized too late that Ino saw it as competition instead of something they had in common.

 

He seems to pick up on all that, but blessedly refrains from talking about it. ‘From what you’ve told us, he’s always been a bit distant, even before...well. But what on earth makes you think he hates you? Did he say anything to you to suggest that?’

 

‘He said I was annoying,’ Sakura says quietly. And he had. Which was hardly fair, because compared to Naruto, she was a delight. She’d been commiserating with him about Naruto, come to think of it. He’d even started the conversation about the other boy, before darting off suddenly. When he came back...it was like he’d changed somehow. Become colder. More closed off. She’d desperately tried to steer the conversation back to where it had been going beforehand, but after she started complaining about Naruto, Sasuke-kun had brushed her off completely and sauntered away like he hadn’t just crushed her hopes. ‘I didn’t even...I didn’t get the chance to tell him I lov--like him. Like him.’ She sniffles a little, swiping furiously at her face.

 

‘Ah, I see.’ He tugs on a sideburn, eyebrows scrunching together almost comically as he cocks his head slightly. ‘Sakura, when your mother and I started dating--’She makes a face at this and he laughs gently. ‘Yeah, yeah, I know, your old folks having feelings at each other. Gross. Back to it. When we started dating, it was because we liked certain things about each other. I liked her for her intelligence, I liked how she hummed when she was focusing on something, I liked her because she punched that rat bastard Ishida Seji in the mouth for calling her a useless civilian.’

 

‘She did _what--’_

 

‘She, of course, liked me for my charm and devilishly handsome good looks.’ He pauses and poses in a way Sakura assumes is supposed to be dramatic and dashing, but his arms are slightly too akimbo and his crooked grin lends a definite goofy air to the whole effect. ‘What I’m trying to say is...what is it you _like_ about Sasuke-kun?’

 

‘Well, that’s easy! He’s--he’s…’ Sakura flounders for a second. Well, obviously she liked his...no, that wasn’t it. Maybe how he...but Shikamaru did that too, and she definitely didn’t like him. Was it his…no, she didn’t think so. ‘He’s...good at...fighting?’ she said hesitantly.

 

‘He probably knows just about as much about you,’ her father says gently, scooching forward on the stairs to lay a hand on her shoulder. ‘You two don’t know each other very well yet. Give it time, little blossom. Find out what you like about him before deciding that you love him. And give him a chance to find out what he likes about you.’ His face grows cheerfully thunderous, a wild glint growing in his eye as his grin turns just a touch manic. ‘And if after all that he still thinks you’re annoying? You punch that rat bastard in the mouth.’

 

* * *

 

She didn’t eat any of the You’re A Kunoichi Now cake last night, and now she’s kind of wishing she had.

 

Instead of eating anything like a _rational human being,_ she’d gone straight to room after her chat with Dad. She rationalizes that she needed the rest: she has no idea what this ‘survival test’ is going to entail, and given that Kakashi-sensei told them to meet at five in the morning, she’d thrown herself into bed shortly after packing every last weapon and survival kit she had into an overnight bag. Sure, she’s well-rested, but now her stomach is complaining loudly.

 

Not as loudly as Naruto, though. ‘Where iiiiiiiiiiiis he?’ whines the orange nuisance from his perch atop one of the posts in the empty field Kakashi-sensei directed them to. He’s been bouncing back and forth between the posts for a good hour and a half now, and it’s setting Sakura’s teeth on edge. ‘It’s like...almost noon.’

 

‘He _was_ late to the orientation, so I don’t really know why you’re so surprised,’ Sakura mutters, shifting slightly so her legs don’t fall asleep. He doesn’t need to know that she’s also a little taken aback at their sensei’s tardiness. ‘And it’s _maybe_ eight-thirty. You can tell by the position of the sun.’

 

‘How?’ Naruto is suddenly peering at her quizzically, all complaints about Kakashi vanishing like the early morning mist.

 

‘Uh--’ She’s not quite sure how to take his curiosity. A lot of kids figured out she was really good at doing the homework and would ask to copy her, but this seems different. Like he actually wants to know. ‘Well--we read about it in class, remember? It was during the wilderness survival unit--’

 

He looks almost sheepish as he scrubs the back of his head. ‘Oh. I uh...kind of forgot most of that part. I remember things better if there’s pictures? Like I’m real good at figuring out plants and shit, cause there were tooooons of illustrations in the packets they gave us, and I could go look at them when I went fishing? But uh...there weren’t any about...directions and the sun and telling time.’

 

Sakura blinks. She never considered it, but the wilderness survival unit had been...rather hands off. Even the packets they had been given were really short and information heavy, and she does remember that the stuff about finding edible plants had been one of those matching assignments where you had to draw a line to the correct illustration. ‘Oh. Well, I could...show you how to tell? It’s pretty easy, actually, but you have to be sort of careful when you do it in the morning or early afternoon or you’ll go blind.’

 

It’s like she’s given him a thousand ryo. He bounds from the post, grinning like a maniac as he drops to his haunches next to her. ‘Aw, shit, nice! So how do you do it?’

 

‘You hold up your hand like this, so your pinky is just touching the horizon. Be careful not to look at the sun for too long, or you’ll do lasting damage to your eyes.’

 

‘Like this?’

 

‘No, hold your fingers together, like this.’ She reaches over and rearranges his hand. ‘Now here’s the tricky part. Sunrise changes from season to season, but here in Fire Country it only ever varies by about an hour or so, and the length of the day never really changes that much, which is why this trick works so well. When you get farther north, into Kumo and Samurai territory, this trick is actually kind of useless because of the differences in how long the sun is up during--’

 

‘Okay, but what does this have to do with my hand?’

 

‘I’m getting there. Each finger represents about fifteen minutes. Today the sun rose at six-thirty, so you start at six-thirty here, at your pinky, and add time in fifteen minute increments.’

 

He pokes his tongue out as he adds up the time in his head. ‘Oh...so four fingers is an hour!’

 

‘Yeah!’ She’s honestly a little surprised he’s catching on so quickly. This doesn’t mesh with the Naruto in her memories, who struggled with tests and nearly failed the Academy altogether. ‘When the sun is just barely peeking over your pointer finger, it’s been an hour. And you can stack your hands to count each hour, like this--’

 

‘So it really _is_ around eight-thirty. I mean, I knew you were smart, but now you’re _cool_ , too.’

 

She can feel herself blush a little at the compliment. ‘Ah--well, the trick only really works here in Fire Country--and only when you can reliably see the horizon, so it doesn’t really work in the forest--’

 

‘Sakura-chan,’ says Naruto seriously. ‘This is the coolest shit anyone has ever shown me, ever, and I am absolutely counting that time Kiba found that two-headed snake out in that field by his grandma’s place. This is _cool shit_. Right, Sasuke?’ He turns and looks at the other boy, who has been standing vigil a short distance away in front of the polished stone set in the center of the clearing.

 

‘Tch.’ Sasuke shrugs. ‘It’s practical.’

 

‘See, even the bastard thinks it’s cool.’ Naruto turns back to her, beaming. ‘Thanks, Sakura-chan, I really appreciate you showing me.’

 

‘I--’

 

‘Good morning,’ drones a lazy voice from behind them, and Sakura whips around to see Kakashi-sensei, slouching against one of the posts as he waves jauntily at him.

 

‘YOU’RE LATE,’ Naruto shrieks in unison with Sakura’s cry of ‘YOU SAID FIVE!’

 

‘There was a black cat that crossed in front of me, so I had to take the long way around, which took me by a little old lady who needed--ah. Uh.’ He trails off as he eyes the glares Naruto and Sakura are sending his way. ‘Well. Ok. To business, then.’

 

They watch dumbfoundedly as he produces a huge alarm clock from a bag slung over his shoulder. He sets it down with a definitive _thunk_ on the center post and presses a button on the top. ‘What’s that for?’ Naruto blurts out, scurrying up to the post and reaching out a hand for the clock.

 

Kakashi slaps his hand away. ‘The survival exercise. It’s set for noon, which, thanks to Pinky over there--’ Sakura chokes down an annoyed snort at that. Even _Dad_ is pushing his luck when he calls her dumb nicknames, and this guy doesn’t even properly know her yet. ‘--you know is three and a half hours away.’

 

Naruto shuffles back to stand next to Sakura, nursing his hand. ‘Ok...so...do we have to like...survive in the woods until then, or…’

 

She can’t see his mouth for the mask that covers it, but she somehow gets the distinct impression that he’s smiling with all his teeth. ‘Oh, no, Dead-Last. You have to survive _me.’_

 

* * *

 

Sakura’s struggling to piece together a timeline for what’s happening. Here’s what she has so far:

 

  1. It’s been thirty minutes since this wretched test started.
  2. It’s been about twenty-nine minutes since Naruto tried to bull-rush Kakashi-sensei, screeching bloody murder as he hurled a kunai directly at the jounin’s head.
  3. It’s been about twenty-eight minutes since Kakashi-sensei neatly hoisted Naruto by the collar of his hideous orange jumpsuit and unceremoniously tossed him into the stream running through the training field. He didn’t even look up from the book he’d started reading.
  4. It’s been about twenty-seven minutes since Naruto flailed out of the stream and vanished up a tree on the south edge of the field. He’s not moved from there since, not that Sakura’s seen.
  5. In the following stretch of time, neither she nor Sasuke have made an attempt on the bells, until:
  6. About two minutes ago. Sasuke finally decided to make a move. It starts with a pair of shuriken, arcing out from his hiding spot. Sakura could barely track their movement, and if she didn’t already have eyes on Sasuke’s position, she wouldn’t be able to tell you where they’d come from. She wishes she could curve her throws like that: obfuscating the point of origin of thrown weapons is an invaluable skill for shinobi.
  7. In theory, of course. In practice, Kakashi catches the shuriken in question and turns his one-eyed gaze directly on Sasuke’s hiding spot.



 

She’s all caught up, she thinks. Naruto is nowhere to be seen. Sasuke has been flushed out of his patch of brush in a fit of desperation. And Kakashi-sensei seems bored with the whole ordeal.

 

Sasuke’s dancing around Kakashi-sensei in, honestly, kind of a graceless manner. He’s barely keeping ahead of the man, and she can see the growing panic in his eyes as Kakashi deflects another brace of shuriken with a flick of a kunai.  

 

Kakashi, in direct contrast, hasn’t looked up from his book since the fight started. His free arm swirls almost lazily around him as he blocks Sasuke’s desperate kicks and punches. Occasionally, Kakashi will twist and strike out with his feet or glide smoothly out of the path of a kunai, but for the most part, he’s staying in one spot.

 

Sasuke seems to realize that he’s literally fighting a losing battle and breaks off, making a run for the thicket to the east of the clearing. Kakashi doesn’t even watch Sasuke’s haphazard retreat. He slowly turns a page in his book.

 

And turns to look at her.

 

Up until this point, she hadn’t been quite sure why Sasuke had allowed himself to be driven from his hiding spot. But now she’s bolting across the clearing, lungs burning as she hurtles through the shallowest part of the stream. She’s not even sure _why,_ she _knows_ that Kakashi won’t seriously hurt her, but nonetheless, she almost feels as if she’s running for her life. Sakura makes it to the other side, flings herself behind a boulder, risks a glance over the top--

 

What the heck. Kakashi’s still standing in the same spot. He didn’t even move.

 

‘ _Sakura-chan_ ,’ hisses a voice from above her, and she almost draws blood when she bites on her tongue to keep herself from screaming. She looks up to see Naruto’s face nestled in the leaves of the tree above her. ‘Listen, I think we should like--I dunno, compare notes or--’

 

‘No,’ she says loudly, slapping a hand over her mouth when her outburst rings out with a little more volume than she intended. ‘No, we shouldn’t. It’s a _test,_ Naruto, we--there’s only two bells. It’s every shinobi for themselves, and if we cheat and help each other, he’ll _know.’_ She had, at the beginning of the test, considered teaming up with Sasuke, but the other boy had hissed at her that he needed to do this alone. And he was right, they all need to do this alone.

 

‘But Sakura-chan-’

 

‘ _No buts, Naruto,’_ she bites out. ‘Listen, it was kind of nice teaching you how to tell time, but if you’re going to be a shinobi, you can’t rely on me for everything. This isn’t the Academy anymore, we can’t just copy each other’s homework anymore. Not that I’d ever copy _yours.’_ She regrets the jab as soon as it leaves her mouth, but if she’s going to do this alone, he needs to scram.

 

He’s silent for a few moments that weigh heavy between them. ‘...ok. I don’t wanna mess up your grade.’ There’s a tiny swirl of leaves that fall to the ground as his face disappears from above her. She watches the canopy sway gently as he retreats, and she hopes he won’t feel too badly when he fails this test and goes back to the Academy.

 

She takes a deep breath. _Okay,_ she thinks. _Back to business._ Scooting carefully closer to the end of the boulder she’s crouched behind, she winces as her knee catches on a root. It stings, and it’s dripping blood, but she doesn’t have the time to care about a skinned knee.

 

There’s a tree nearby that has a better vantage point, and will allow her to stand while still giving cover. She dives across the gap, tucking and rolling to keep closer to the ground, and peers cautiously around the trunk. _Good, Kakashi-sensei’s still in the clearing--_

 

‘That was kind of _mean,_ Pinky,’ drones a voice behind her. She whirls, catching a glimpse of white hair and a black mask and something impossibly red--

 

* * *

 

When Sakura wakes, she can’t shake the feeling that everything’s moved two inches to the left.

 

She squints up at the sun, does some mental calculations, and is a bit perturbed to discover that it’s been about forty-five minutes since the test started, which means she’s been out for just shy of fifteen. Not great, losing that much time, but hey, she still has a chance. She scrubs at her eyes and blinks away the resulting splotches of red and black and white that dance in her vision. Wait. The trees, the trees are wrong, she can feel a breeze, she can hear the leaves rustle, but the branches, the leaves aren’t _moving--_

 

She was panicking a second ago. Something about the trees. She can’t remember. It’s fine, though, they’re just trees.

 

Sakura crawls to the edge of the boulder, spots a tree nearby--and stops. Didn’t she already do this before? Wasn’t she already behind that tree? She’d scuffed her knee on this root as she peeked around to see if Kakashi-sensei had moved...hadn’t she? Her knee had been bleeding slightly, the red of her blood catching the light of the sun and contrasting the black of the dirt ground into the wound and the white of the hem of her tunic--

 

No. No, her knee was unmarred and Kakashi-sensei was--wait, no he wasn’t there anymore. He’d been behind her. She remembers a flash of--of _red-on-black-on-white--_ and sucks in a shaky breath. Kakashi-sensei has her in a--

 

What was she thinking about? She can’t remember. Doesn’t matter, she’s gotta find Kakashi-sensei and get a bell. She’s going to be a kunoichi, and she’s gotta do it alone. And he’s vanished from the clearing in the past fifteen minutes, so she needs to track him down--

 

And whoa, holy crap, how did she get to the clearing so fast? Sakura can’t remember. She doesn’t know how to shunshin, that’s a high-level genin technique, almost chunin, she doesn’t have the chakra pools for it yet--

 

Wow, for a jounin, he’s surprisingly easy to track. Just leaves footprints and broken twigs like he’s not some sort of elite shinobi. The trail he leaves is so clear and easy to spot, she’s going to have no trouble at all finding him. A stroke of luck, really. When was the last time she was this lucky? She can’t remember. She looks at the sky to see how much time has passed, her hand blocking out the sun, the white glare of the sunlight casting warm red shadows through her hand that edge into black-- _red-on-black-on-white--_

 

The sun is in the wrong place. It’s in the _wrong place_ . The _sun is in the wrong place in the sky._ It’s telling her that it’s eight-thirty, that the test hasn’t even _started yet, that’s wrong, wrong wrong wrong-wrong-wrong-RED-ON-BLACK-ON-WHITE--_

 

‘ _Sakura,’_ rattles a voice from the bushes next to her, and of course the sun isn’t wrong, how can it be _wrong?_ Why did she think the sun could be wrong? She can’t remember. She needs to check out the voice. It might be a clue about Kakashi-sensei--

 

_\--red-on-black-on-white-red-on-black-on-white--_

 

She shudders, and the voice rasps her name again. The bushes shake and shiver, and a dark blur tumbles out, raven hair in disarray around a pale face, so pale it’s almost like looking at a ghost, globules of red blood and gore tumble from thin lips and kunai that stick out of terrible, horrible wounds at terrible, horrible angles, red blood matting black hair against ivory skin, **_RED-ON-BLACK-ON-WHITE_ **\--

 

Something slams into her and knocks the universe two inches to the right.

 

‘Sakura-chan,’ squeaks Naruto, and she blinks, and the red-on-black-on-white ghost of Sasuke vanishes without so much as a death rattle. Her knee is aching, still bleeding sluggishly, the leaves on the trees are dancing slightly in the wind, the sun is no longer telling her it’s eight-thirty, and _Kakashi-sensei put her in the most intricate genjutsu she’s ever seen in her entire life._ They practiced how to detect simple genjutsus in the Academy, like singling out bunshins from the original, but this was another level _entirely._ ‘I know you said we shouldn’t cheat, but you kept muttering about--about colors, and you started crying, and you weren’t _moving and it’s been so long since he attacked you_ and I figured Kakashi did something _weird_ to you--’

 

‘No--no, I...thanks, Naruto,’ she replies shakily. ‘Yeah he--he got me.’

 

Naruto grimaces. ‘You’re not the only one he got. I heard Sasuke doing that fancy-fire-jutsu thing he does, and then he just--stopped. In the middle of the jutsu. So it’s pretty safe to say he’s down for the count.’ He scrubs at the back of his head. ‘Listen, Sakura-chan, I know you don’t want to work together on this ‘cause you think it’s cheating, but...ninjas get put on three-man-teams for a reason. Iruka-sensei doesn’t run the Academy by himself. Even Jiji has bodyguards and assistants and people to help him. I don’t think we’re supposed to do this alone, cause _nobody_ does this alone, y’know?’

 

‘But the bells--if we work together, Sasuke--’

 

‘He said that the person who hasn’t gotten a bell off him by the time the alarm goes off gets tied to the post and fails, yeah? But he never said you had to _keep_ the bell you get. So what if one of us takes a bell, makes sure Kakashi-sensei sees that we have the bell, then another puts it back while they’re taking the other bell? Then whoever’s takes the bell that was put back. He’ll never see it coming. We’ll all win.’

 

‘I...ok, how are we going to take the bells in the first place?’

 

‘Well, we find Sasuke, and we--’

 

And then the alarm goes off, and the test is over, and they’ve all failed.

 

* * *

 

When they trudge up to the posts, Sasuke is tied to the center post. He’s, bafflingly, covered from the neck down in dirt, and his eyes are cast to the ground in a sullen glare.

 

‘So none of you even came _close_ to getting a bell,’ Kakashi says dryly. ‘And to think, Sakura and Sasuke are the best your graduating class has to offer. What do they _teach_ you these days?’ He shakes his head. ‘Eh. Whatever. Won’t be my problem anymore after today. Sit, sit.’

 

Naruto plops himself down gracelessly, his scowl matching Sasuke’s in intensity. Sakura sinks to the ground next to him, trying not to cry.

 

Kakashi ambles over to his pack and digs out two bento. ‘You guys should give up on being shinobi,’ he says casually, as if he’s discussing the weather. ‘I mean, you can’t take a measly bell off a stupid old jounin, so you’re never going to reach those lofty goals of yours. I mean Naruto and Sasuke’s goals are lofty, of course. Not you, Sakura. No offense, but ‘killing a certain man’ and ‘becoming Hokage’ are definitely grander ambitions than...what was yours again?’ He taps his chin, and if Sakura was unsure that she was being mocked beforehand, she was dead sure now. ‘ _Right,_ you didn’t have one. But!’

 

He hands one bento to Naruto, then one to Sakura. ‘You two still stand more of a chance than Broody over there.’

 

Sasuke splutters, the first noise he’s made since they arrived. ‘I-- _what?’_

 

Kakashi holds up a finger. ‘One,’ he says. ‘Dead-last. Here’s what you did right.’ Naruto’s head jerks around, and he looks almost as startled as Sakura feels at that statement. ‘You may have rushed in unprepared against a much stronger opponent, but once you discovered you were outmatched, you went to ground and observed. You recognized that Sakura had been put under a genjutsu and took steps to break her out of it. And you recognized that you’ll never be able to take me on alone.’

 

Naruto puffs himself up indignantly ‘I--well, one day, maybe.’

 

Kakashi snorts. ‘When I’m 85 and senile, maybe. Moving on. Pinky. You also recognized that you’re no match against me, and kept your distance. When you realized your hiding place had been made, you retreated instead of attacking, thus allowing yourself to pick the battleground instead of letting me choose for you. It’s a decent tactic for luring opponents into traps. You kept your wits about you long enough for someone to help you shake off the genjustu I placed on you. And when you found yourself with a minor injury, you didn’t fuss about your appearance or allow it to slow you down.’

 

Sakura blinks. ‘I--it’s just a skinned knee--’

 

‘Broody,’ Kakashi says, whirling around. ‘You may be stronger than these other two idiots when it comes to fighting, but you didn’t _learn_ from your attacks and adjust your strategy, You just kept attacking in the same way over and over again. After I buried you with my Headhunter Jutsu--’ Oh. _That’s_ why he’s covered in dirt. ‘--you made no attempts to call out to either Naruto or Sakura to warn them about me, or call for help. You allowed yourself to get captured and allowed yourself to _stay_ captured.’

 

Sasuke’s stormy expression does not change, nor does his gaze shift from the ground during Kakashi’s evaluation.

 

‘Despite all of your...shortcomings,’ Kakashi continues. ‘I am going to give you one last chance.’

 

Naruto give a wordless shriek of excitement, and Sakura almost drowns in her relief. Sasuke slouches almost imperceptibly against the ropes binding him to the post.

 

‘Here’s how this is going to work. We’re going to sit here and eat our lunch, and in thirty minutes, you will try again. It’s going to be much harder this time, so you’ll have to make your strategies and plans during this period. And--’ Kakashi’s eye focuses lazily on Sasuke. ‘Broody doesn’t get lunch. He let himself get captured, and this is his punishment for that.’

 

Sasuke lets out a small ‘ _hm’_ at this, but no other reaction.

 

‘Sakura, Naruto, I suggest you start eating _now.’_ Kakashi digs out another bento from his pack and settles on the ground in front of the large stone dominating the clearing. ‘And before you start your planning, I’ll give you a little history lesson. It’s probably going to be the only thing I teach you.’ He gestures vaguely to the stone. ‘This is the Memorial Stone. Engraved on it are the names of the greatest heroes of Konoha.’

 

‘Oh, cool!’ Naruto sprays rice all over Sakura as he jabs his chopsticks at the Memorial Stone. ‘I wanna get my name carved on there someday!’

 

Kakashi cocks his head. ‘Ah, perhaps you will. There are a lot of names here, from all walks of life. This man was a guardsman, this kunoichi was a quartermaster for a guardpost on our border with Taki. The Yondaime himself has his name on this stone, right next to a genin who helped evacuate civilians during the Fox attack.’ He pauses. ‘Do you know what they have in common?’

 

Both Sakura and Naruto shrug, at a loss. Sasuke speaks up, which startles them both. ‘They’re dead.’

 

‘They’re dead,’ Kakashi echoes, nodding. ‘Died in the line of duty for the sake of Konoha. I have a lot of friends on this Stone, and undoubtedly, you three know someone who knew someone on this Stone.’

 

Naruto has gone very still and very quiet, and Sakura cannot say she blames him. She knows, on some instinctive level, that she’s risking her life by becoming a shinobi, but she’s never really thought about how she, at any point, could die on the battlefield. Maybe she’s not cut out for this. Maybe Kakashi is right. Maybe she should give up on being a shinobi. Maybe--

 

‘I don’t wanna end up on there just yet,’ says Naruto suddenly, slowly setting down his chopsticks. ‘But I’d be proud if I did, cause it’d mean I saved someone, right?’

 

Kakashi regards him quietly. ‘Yes,’ he says finally. ‘Yes, if you did end up on the Stone, it would be because you saved someone. And that would be something to be proud of.’ His demeanor shifts abruptly, the melancholy slipping away. ‘Ah, I’ve forgotten my chopsticks. Be right back. Don’t feed Sasuke while I’m gone.’ Kakashi vanishes in a swirl of leaves, and they’re alone with the weight of their own mortality on their shoulders.

 

Naruto almost immediately scrambles to his feet and starts making a beeline for Kakashi’s bento, which lies open on the grass in front of the Memorial Stone. ‘Naruto, what are you _doing?’_ Sakura hisses, flailing an arm out to grab at his pants as he passes by her. ‘Don’t try and mess with his bento, that’s underhanded and he’ll probably catch on anyways--and don’t try to eat it either, yours should be plenty--’

 

‘It’s not for me, it’s for _him.’_ Naruto jerks his head at Sasuke.

 

‘What,’ says Sasuke flatly at the same time as Sakura.

 

‘ _We need each other if we’re going to win this,’_ Naruto hisses as he uses his chopsticks to delicately extract an onigiri. ‘We all need to bring our A-game to this, and I’m guessing you didn’t eat breakfast like he told us to?’ Sasuke nods, and Naruto thrusts the onigiri at him. ‘Okay then. We gotta do this quick, and while you’re eating, Sakura and I can explain the plan.’

 

Sakura squirms, biting her lip. ‘Wait, Naruto--’

‘I know you’re worried about him catching us cheating, but--’

 

‘No, what I was going to say was--we shouldn’t use his bento. We should use ours. So he doesn’t immediately catch on.’

 

A huge grin breaks across Naruto’s face. ‘See, that’s why we need you. You’re the smart one.’ He wedges the onigiri piece back in, scoops his own bento back up off the ground, and thrusts a small sausage at Sasuke. ‘Well? We don’t have all day, Kakashi can come back at like, any second.’

 

Sasuke looks like he’s liable to bite Naruto’s fingers off instead of the food he’s being offered, but he takes the food nonetheless. As he’s chewing, Sakura scoots closer, clearing her throat. ‘Okay, uh--what Naruto and I were thinking was--’

 

‘ _YOU THREE!_ ’

 

Kakashi doesn’t even bother with a leaf shunshin. He just _appears_ in an explosion of smoke and wind, and he’s _seething._ Naruto yelps and drops his bento, rice scattering everywhere. ‘ _Explain yourselves.’_

 

They all start talking at once. Naruto yells about how he was just stretching his arms, waving them in the air as if to prove his point. Sakura stammers that she has no clue what Kakashi’s talking about. Sasuke mutters that his arms are falling asleep, and if he’s going to fail them, can he please do it soon so he can go home? Sakura’s the one who finally takes a deep breath and stops yelling incoherently, and when she does, she takes a deep breath and says, ‘Sensei? You were here the whole time, weren’t you? This was a test.’ She gulps. ‘It was a test, and we cheated, and we failed.’

 

‘I was,’ Kakashi growls. ‘I’ve been watching this whole time. I saw you cheat. And--’ The anger leaves Kakashi’s eye like it never even existed, and his voice grows cheerful. ‘You pass!’

 

Everyone freezes.

 

‘What?’ blurts Naruto, his arms dropping. ‘We--what?’

 

‘I don’t understand,’ Sakura says faintly. ‘We cheated. We _failed._ ’

 

‘Pinky, we’re _shinobi_ . We kind of make our living off of subterfuge and deceit.’ He sobers a bit, straightening. ‘And today you displayed that you were more willing to help your teammates than risk my wrath. Remember this. Anyone who breaks the rules? They’re scum. But those who don’t cherish their friends? They’re _worse_ than scum.’

 

Sakura’s eyes are watering, and she thinks she’s dangerously close to crying. ‘We’re...we passed,’ she says dumbly, slumping to the ground.

 

‘You passed,’ repeats Kakashi, not unkindly. ‘Team Seven starts missions tomorrow.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ino: wow sasuke is so cute and dreamy  
> sakura: that sounds fake but okay
> 
> also: fun fact: the hand trick absolutely works if you live close to the equator. it works better in the summer, but it's still fairly accurate during the winter. the farther north or south you go, though, and the less accurate it gets. thanks for coming to my ted talk
> 
> asdfjk asdf HI i've been away for far too long. rest assured, i have not abandoned this fic ;o;
> 
> thanks for reading!!


	5. v-sasuke

Sasuke has a routine.

 

He’s had this routine ever since  _ that night _ . Well, the morning after he got released from the hospital, technically, but whenever he thinks about when his new life started, the point in time he traces it to is  _ that night _ . And his routine is his life now. So the routine started  _ that night _ .

 

He rises shortly before dawn, just as the songbirds are just beginning their morning refrains. It takes him fifteen minutes to roll his futon neatly and change out of his sleepwear into workout clothes: just enough time for his brain to shake off the fog of sleep and sharpen up for the day.

 

After he’s dressed, he leaves the apartment. People call it  _ his _ apartment, but he doesn’t feel that it belongs to him. Nothing in the Uchiha district belongs to him, not really. Everything here belongs to the ghosts, from the grand Naka Shrine to the smallest toolshed. It all belongs to the long dead, and so does he, until he can free them all from the memory of  _ that man _ . Once he avenges them, maybe then he can find a place to call his own. 

 

He locks the door behind him, despite thinking that nobody would want to steal from him. He’s an orphan with a genin’s wage, and nothing in that apartment is really his. He’s just borrowing from the ghosts for now. But locking the door is an important part of the routine, so he locks the door and neatly tucks his key into his pocket.

 

The path to the training ground is overgrown, weeds and briars weaving themselves through gaps in the cobblestones, and he’s considering adding maintenance to his routine. For now, the path is still traversable, so he has time to figure out a plan. 

 

When he arrives at the training ground in the center of the Uchiha compound, the birds are in full chorus and the sky has lightened enough to see clearly. He runs through a few kata, and only occasionally chokes on the knowledge that he’s probably not doing some of them right. Learning from scrolls will only get you so far, and his father had only taught him the most basic forms. There is nobody left to teach him the more advanced family techniques. They will die when  _ that man  _ does. 

 

After warm-ups, he practices with thrown weapons. He’s almost proud of the clean, looping arcs he can get with his shuriken: he knows he’s nowhere near where he needs to be in terms of weapon accuracy and planning his trajectories, but he’s leaps and bounds better than when his routine first started. It means he’s progressing, and it means his routine is working.

 

Next comes taijutsu practice. A bunshin is a poor stand-in for an actual sparring partner, but it helps him hone his reflexes and accuracy to have a moving target.

 

When he’s done with taijutsu, he cools down with simple jutsu practice. Sometimes, he catches himself thinking  _ Oh, my fireball is much stronger now, I should show Father how far I’ve progressed,  _ or  _ Mother might be able to give me tips on how to make my substitution smoother.  _ It’s strange how kunai target practice never calls up thoughts like these, but he’s not about to take that particular boon for granted. He doesn’t want to think of showing anything to  _ that man  _ until he’s strong enough to face him. Even with his progress, even though he’s the top of his class, he knows he’s nowhere near ready. 

 

With jutsu practice behind him, he follows the overgrown path back to the apartment, digging his keys out from his pocket and blinking against the early morning sun that’s now properly in the sky. He showers, dresses in clean clothes, eats a small meal (usually leftovers from last night’s dinner), and leaves for the day, once again locking the door behind him as if he has anything worth taking anymore. Now that his morning routine is finished, the day can start in earnest.

 

Or it would, if his stupid jounin-sensei ever bothered to show up to their designated meeting spot on time.

 

He and Sakura have been sitting on this dumb bench by the decorative koi pond in front of the shinobi district for almost two hours now, their heads automatically snapping around to track movement whenever anyone crosses the small courtyard. His legs are going almost as numb as his bored brain, but he refuses to allow himself to wiggle feeling back into his toes. Remaining stock-still and quiet is an important skill for shinobi, and he wants to prove to himself that he’d be able to withstand the discomfort associated with sitting still for hours on end.

 

‘This is just our lives now, huh,’ Sakura groans, shading her eyes to look at the sun. ‘Half the morning gone. We could have gotten at least one simple mission done by now. And I’m not complaining about getting more time to hang out with  _ you _ , but this is ridiculous. If Kakashi-sensei would show up when he tells us he will, we wouldn’t have to waste time sitting around like this.’

 

He hums noncommittally, hopeful that his relative silence will indicate that he really doesn’t want to talk right now. 

 

She doesn’t catch the hint. ‘Take this morning, for instance! If we’d  _ known  _ he wasn’t going to show up this late, we could have gotten breakfast together, or gone on walks or something.’ 

 

Ah, yes, he’d almost forgotten. She’s one of the fangirls. He doesn’t really hold it against her, he knows she wasn’t even a ringleader of the gaggle of kids that followed after him like punchdrunk puppies after  _ that night _ . They all saw him as a novelty, as a puzzle to solve, a fascinating new book to read. She does, too. That’s nothing new, and she doesn’t really stand out from the other members of the Tragic Uchiha Survivor Watching Club. If anything, she’s slightly more tolerable than the Yamanaka heir, who insisted on making advances and offering to invite him over for dinner. 

 

Still, best to keep her at arm’s length. She doesn’t share his ghosts, nobody does or ever will, and it would be unfair of him to paint a target on her back _.  _ So he shuffles her away in little ways, like calling her annoying, leaving practice in a rush as she calls after him, or grunting tonelessly as she blathers about hanging out. It’s better this way. Everyone is safer if he minimizes contact with them, and it’s obvious to onlookers (and by extension,  _ that man _ ) that he doesn’t care for her beyond being classmates. He won’t have to completely and utterly burn bridges with her if he doesn’t truly build them in the first place, so keeping his distance is kinder. 

 

He just has to keep this up until they’re chuunin. It’ll be easy, once he figures out a way to wrangle a predictable routine out of Kakashi’s irregular scheduling. He can avoid all of them unless they’re training or on a mission once he has a proper grasp on when things are actually happening.

 

‘--and it’s  _ bad enough  _ that Kakashi-sensei is always late, now  _ Naruto  _ is showing up late, too.’ Sasuke belatedly realizes that he’s been tuning out Sakura’s chatter. And damn, she’s right, the third genin of their unit has been showing up late on occasion. Today is one of said occasions. ‘Do you think he’s figured out a pattern to when Kakashi-sensei’s actually going to show?’

 

‘No,’ says Sasuke firmly, his first coherent word all day. Why the hell would Dead-Last Uzumaki Naruto find a pattern in anything before either of them? Sakura may not be strong or particularly talented, but she’s got a decent amount of intelligence. 

 

‘Speak of the devil,’ she grouses, pointing across the courtyard. Sure enough, Naruto is pelting towards them, waving farewell to-- ‘Why was he with  _ Iruka-sensei?’ _

 

And isn’t that the question of the century. It’s the weekend, so it’s not entirely surprising that Iruka is out and about in the village, but he wouldn’t have pegged the chuunin for someone who would willingly spend time with Naruto. And now that he thinks back on it, a lot of the times that Naruto’s showed up late to team meetings, it’s been a weekend. 

 

‘Maybe he’s doing remedial practice,’ Sakura says quietly. ‘He didn’t graduate with the rest of us, maybe he had to, I dunno, make a deal with the Academy instructors. I heard one of the kids in the class above us did something like that.’

 

‘HEY SAKURA-CHAN, HEY TEME!’ bellows Naruto as he skids to a stop in front of them. ‘Kakashi-sensei still not here? Weird, I thought I saw him over by the library when--well, I guess I beat him here anyways. Had to run all the way here, Iruka-sensei and I had a race across the rooftops, it was pretty cool.’

 

Sakura’s ‘remedial practice’ theory is suddenly holding a lot of water. Sounds like Iruka had strong-armed Naruto into studying something at the library, and they’d seen Kakashi as they were leaving. The idiot needs all the help he can get, he supposes. And it’s not like he wouldn’t be able to cut it as a shinobi: he’s got a decent amount of talent when it comes to sparring, anyone with half a brain can see he has at least some talent with traps, and Sasuke has witnessed him easily slip away from angry victims of his pranks on several occasions. It makes a certain amount of sense that the Academy would allow him to graduate on the grounds that he attends study sessions with Iruka.

 

‘Wait, you can run on rooftops?’ Sakura’s head is cocked, like a dog hearing a noise it doesn’t quite understand. ‘How on earth are you using chakra like that? You’re a  _ genin.’ _

 

Naruto’s grin grows brighter as he scruffs a hand through his hair. ‘Aw, that ain’t nothin. I’ve been climbing up onto rooftops since I was, like, seven. Don’t even need chakra for it, just gotta know where to put your feet, y’know? All the buildings are pretty close together in Konoha, it’s easy to jump from building to building, and even if you fall, it’s not like you’re going to get super hurt. Just a broken arm or leg, and those heal super fast.’

 

Sasuke knows from experience that broken arms and legs do  _ not  _ heal super fast, but he doesn’t have the energy or patience to argue that point with Naruto. One day, the idiot will slip and fall and find out how slow broken bones heal, and hopefully it won’t be in the middle of a battle. 

 

‘You don’t know a thing about broken bones,’ Sakura says archly, and apparently she feels up to the impending argument. ‘A broken arm takes at  _ least--’ _

 

‘Yo,’ says a now-familiar bored voice, and both Sakura and Naruto yell wordlessly at Kakashi, who is now calmly reading one of his idiotic books on the bench next to Sasuke. 

 

‘You’re late,’ Sasuke says blandly, finally shifting his legs and forcing himself not to wince as feeling rushes back to his limbs in a tidal wave of static pinpricks. Finally, the day can start. It’s about time, too. 

 

‘Am I? Or are you--’

 

‘If you say ‘simply early’, I will feed that stupid book to those koi.’ Sakura crosses her arms in front of her chest. ‘We have lives outside training and missions. Things to do. People to hang out with.’

 

‘Yeah!’ chimes in Naruto. ‘You can’t be late all the time--’

 

‘Naruto, you were late too.’

 

‘--and--c’mon, Sakura-chan, he didn’t need to know that--’

 

‘We have a mission,’ says Kakashi mildly, turning a page in his book. 

 

‘It better not be that stupid cat again--’ 

 

‘--what’s wrong with Tora, Naruto? I think he’s  _ sweet.’ _

 

‘He always claws my face up! And you guys always make  _ me  _ carry him!’

 

‘It is, in fact,’ Kakashi drawls, ‘the stupid cat again. But I  _ remind you,  _ the ‘stupid cat’ belongs to the  _ Daimyo’s wife.  _ As in the woman married to the man who holds all the financial power in Konoha. So maybe this time, we don’t call the cat ‘stupid’ in front of his owner, who  _ I might stress,  _ is the _ Daimyo’s wife. Naruto.’ _

 

‘What? What’d  _ I _ do?’ Naruto’s voice is petulant and defensive.

 

‘Repeat what I just said.’

 

‘The stupid cat belongs to the Daimyo’s girlfriend and I shouldn’t call it stupid in front of her, even though it is stupid and mean and ugly.’

 

Kakashi rubs the bridge of his nose, wrinkling the fabric of his mask between his thumb and forefinger. ‘Close enough. Ok, let’s get started.’

 

* * *

 

‘Here’s your stupi--your cat,’ Naruto says, dropping the yowling bundle of malice into the waiting arms of his owner. 

 

Sasuke swallows an amused snort as he ambles past the reunion, keeping pace with Kakashi’s meandering stroll towards the Mission Desk. The Daimyo’s wife doesn’t seem to notice the slight towards her precious cat, as she’s too busy squeezing the life out of it as it tries in vain to wriggle out of her embrace. ‘No wonder he always runs away,’ mutters Sakura as she trots past, and he can’t help but agree with her.

 

‘Well, we’ll never be short on D-ranks so long as Tora’s around,’ Naruto mumbles back, and it’s true: Team 7 is the only genin unit this year that’s had relative success in tracking Tora down. And most of that success is actually attributed to Naruto, as painful as it is for Sasuke to think about. The stupid cat can run circles around Sasuke and Sakura, but Naruto has a weird knack for wriggling through gaps in between buildings and dashing across rooftiles that gives him an edge in the chase. Two Tora-chases ago, he’d just scrambled up a ten-foot-tall chain-link fence like some sort of demented squirrel without even hestitating. And Sakura had been right, earlier, they didn’t have the kind of control needed to use chakra to climb like that.

 

‘--Jiji, isn’t there something more  _ exciting?’ _ Naruto is saying, and Sasuke realizes that he’s been tuning out the conversation again. 

 

‘ _ Naruto,’  _ hisses Iruka reprovingly from his desk next to the Hokage. ‘Remember what we talked about? About working your way up to C-ranks?’

 

‘Actually, given Sasuke and Sakura’s scores on their exams, I think they’re about ready for C-ranks,’ the Hokage interjects, puffing on his pipe and shuffling through the pile of scrolls in front of him. ‘In fact, we have a very low-level C-rank available now. An escort mission to Wave Country. No enemy nin expected, just bandits and wildlife. A perfect mission for these three to cut their teeth on. Now if I could only find that scroll...’

 

‘H-hokage-sama, are you certain they’re ready?’ Iruka stammers, head whipping around to stare at the Sandaime with eyes the size of dinner-plates. ‘They’re still rookies, barely three months out of the Academy.’

 

‘Final say goes to Kakashi, as their jounin-sensei he’ll have a better sense of their abilities. Ah, here it is. Look it over, Kakashi, and tell me if you think they’re up to the task.’ 

 

Kakashi takes the offered scroll, flicks it open, and takes a minute to scan the details. Naruto is standing on tip-toes next to the man, straining to see what’s inscribed. Sasuke is absolutely not stooping down to his level, but he does manage to catch ‘bridge’ and ‘bandit’ written in a spidery hand. ‘Yeah, this looks about right for my squirts,’ Kakashi drones, rolling the scroll back up and tucking it into his flak jacket. ‘We’ll take it.’

 

The Hokage nods, looking pleased. Iruka splutters, looking decidedly not so.

 

‘Ugh, FINALLY,’ Naruto says. ‘No more stupid cats.’ His blue gaze flicks over to the Daimyo’s wife, who is settling payment with a desk nin across the room. ‘Uh, I mean, no more absolutely wonderful and totally not stupid and evil cats.’

 

‘Well!’ The Hokage claps his hands together, smiling crookedly around his pipe. ‘I suppose introductions are in order. Tazuna-san! If you would come in here please!’ he calls, craning his neck to look expectantly at a side-door.

 

The door in question slams open, and through it stumbles an old bespectacled man with a towel slung around his shoulders, a hat hanging from a cord around his neck, and a bottle of cheap sake dangling precariously from his fingers. ‘What’s this?’ he barks after a few seconds of scanning the room. ‘They’re a bunch of damn  _ brats.’  _ He takes a swig from the bottle, then squints at Naruto. ‘Especially that one, the shortstack with the stupid look on his face. Are you really a ninja?’

 

Sasuke almost lets out a sardonic laugh, but catches himself in time. Really? As if this lunatic has any room to talk. It’s barely mid-afternoon and he’s already drunk. He bites back a sarcastic response as Naruto finally catches on that he’s the shortstack with the stupid look and starts shrieking angrily and stomping towards Tazuna.

 

‘Oi, Naruto, don’t do anything to the client!’ Sakura’s got a hand on Naruto’s shoulder, and she’s throwing a look over to Sasuke, her eyes pleading. ‘Sasuke-kun, help me keep this--argh! Help me keep this idiot from killing our client!’

 

He rolls his eyes and grabs Naruto by the collar, kicking the other boy’s feet from under him with a sharp motion. This shouldn’t be his job, Kakashi should be the one wrangling him. But their sensei is currently deep in a hushed conversation with Iruka for some reason, so when Tazuna gives them a curt introduction and turns to storm off, it’s Sasuke’s hand that forces Naruto’s head into a short, apologetic bow.

 

‘You leave tomorrow,’ says the Hokage cheerfully. ‘You’re dismissed for the day. Make sure you pack all your necessities!’ 

 

Kakashi breaks off from Iruka, dragging a still spitting-mad Naruto out the door by the ear. ‘The Hokage’s right, you guys need to go pack. Wave Country is a day and a half’s walk from Konoha, you’ll need to pack weapons, clothes, a small medical kit…’

 

‘What did Iruka-sensei want?’ Sakura asks curiously. ‘Is it something to do with Naruto’s remedial lessons?’

 

Kakashi and Naruto both freeze like spooked deer. ‘Naruto doesn’t have remedial lessons with Iruka, Sakura,’ says Kakashi sharply, just as Naruto blurts out, ‘The fuck does remedial mean? Is it a cool jutsu?’

 

‘Uh,’ Sakura says smartly. ‘Well--Sasuke-kun and I just thought--’

 

‘Don’t bring me into this,’ he mutters softly.

 

‘Naruto doesn’t have remedial lessons,’ Kakashi repeats, finally letting his white-knuckled grip on Naruto’s jacket go. ‘I don’t know how you got that impression, but he doesn’t. At any rate, you need to go pack. Make sure to pack something warm, the coast can get a little chilly at night this time of year.’ After a few seconds of everyone standing there awkwardly, he waves his hands. ‘Well? Go pack! If you have any questions about what you need, ask Iruka!’

 

* * *

 

The route back to the Uchiha district is the same general direction as Naruto heads when it’s time to go home, so when he tags along after Sasuke, it’s not too much of a surprise at first. Sakura, though, he knows lives in the merchant’s district, so she has no excuse to go this far afield. And he’s fairly certain that Naruto missed his turn about two blocks back. But they’re chattering to each other, seemingly content to not engage him in conversation for a change, so he doesn’t call them on it.

 

‘What do you suppose the ocean’s gonna be like, Sakura-chan?’ Naruto asks, strolling along the raised wall beside the path. ‘I wonder if it’s anything like my dreams. All huge and shining and rolling around like the forest on a windy day.’

 

‘I’ve never seen the sea,’ Sakura admits. ‘I’ve been outside Konoha once or twice with my father, when he was picking up a shipment from another settlement or meeting a business partner, but we never left Fire Country or went near the ocean. Always west, close to our border with Grass Country. I wonder if the ocean looks like the plains that way?’

 

‘Nah, grass is green or brown sometimes. The ocean is...I bet it’s like. Blue. Like the sky, but...more.’

 

Sasuke can’t help but snort. ‘What does  _ that  _ mean, dead-last?’

 

Naruto kicks at a stone on top of the wall. ‘I dunno, just...more. More shades, more to it. The sky’s mostly all the same, you know? It gets a little darker closer to the horizon, but for the most part. Same. The ocean...I bet it has more colors to it. Like some of the blues are almost black, but some of them are almost green, depending on the light.’

 

Sakura doesn’t seem convinced. ‘It doesn’t look  _ green, _ I’ve seen illustrations.’

 

‘I said  _ almost green--’ _

 

Thank Amaterasu herself, he’s almost at the gates to the Uchiha compound. He can sense the coming argument, and he wants absolutely no part in it. ‘I’ll see you two tomorrow,’ he says, not quite breaking into a run.

 

‘--how can water be  _ green-- _ oh! Uh, Sasuke-kun, don’t you want to--’

 

He doesn’t stop to listen to whatever Sakura has planned as he speedwalks into the Compound, her voice falling farther and farther with each step. In fact, he doesn’t stop at all, not until he finds himself at the training ground. He’s only mildly surprised that he wound up here: it’s only four in the afternoon, and he can still get some good training in before sunset.

 

In fact, from here on in, he can simply slip back into his routine. It’s a relief, really, knowing exactly what will happen next. No waiting around for a lazy sensei for hours. No weird idle chit-chat with a girl he barely knows and who barely knows him. No weird growing mystery around why Naruto’s spending so much time with an Academy instructor this long after graduating. No drunkards, no idiotic talks about the ocean, no coming home from a late practice to find your mother bleeding out on the tatami and your father staring with empty glassy eyes at the ruined walls--

 

Sasuke’s heart seizes in his chest, and he almost falls to his knees as the memory of  _ that night  _ blazes in his mind. He stumbles to a rock on the edge of the training ground to catch his breath, sitting down heavily and only wincing slightly as a stray stick jams into his ankle. He doesn’t bother extracting the offending twig, though, opting instead to calm his breathing and grind the heels of his palms into his eyes. He’s wheezing now, and he can’t stop taking quick, rattling gasps, too quick, Sage curse it all he’s getting  _ dizzy-- _

 

No. It’s fine.  _ He’s  _ fine. He’s keeping to a schedule, everything that’s going to happen in the next four to six hours are completely and utterly predictable because he’s the one who’s making the plans.  _ That man  _ isn’t coming back, not until he’s got Mangeyko Sharingan, and he doesn’t even have his  _ normal  _ Sharingan yet. That’s why he has the routine. To get the eyes to face him. And to make sure he lives until he has them.

 

It’s fine. He’s fine. He’s going to live. He’s not one of the ghosts yet. He just owes them vengeance.

 

His breathing has slowed, thankfully, and he manages to heave a sigh without the world spinning around him. It’s been a while since he’s suffered through one of these weird episodes. He wonders sometimes if it’s something other shinobi go through, if they sometimes relive their worst moments at the most inopportune times, or if it’s something uniquely Uchiha. He has vague memories of one of his great-aunts complaining about how she relived a battle every time she had to activate her Sharingan, so he thinks it’s just a Uchiha thing. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, though, since he doesn’t have a Sharingan yet, but maybe it’s something they all had regardless of whether or not their dojutsu was active.

 

When he finally feels up for moving again, the sun has slunk down behind the trees. Damn. That’s the worst thing about these episodes. He can never tell how serious they’re going to be, or how long he’s going to be locked into one. He’s lost a lot of daylight to this one, and he’d better head back to the apartment if he’s going to pack.

 

As he trudges up the path, it strikes him: he’s lucky not to have suffered one of these episodes in front of Kakashi or Sakura or, gods forbid,  _ Naruto. _ He’d never live it down if they saw him like this. He should do some more poking around the Clan’s library, see if there are any scrolls or books about how to avoid these episodes in the future.

 

It takes him about an hour and a half to square away his overnight bag. Most of the time is dedicated to attempting to fit a decent amount of clothing into his pack: in the end, he settles for just cramming as many shirts as he can find into the bag. Surely he won’t need more than two pairs of shorts. They don’t get as sweaty as shirts do. That’s logical. And he needs as much room as possible for his weapons and medical kit. 

 

Dinner that evening is rice and a hastily dashed together curry. Normally, he takes more time with his dinner, but his episode earlier has left him...not necessarily weak, but drained. And his routine tomorrow will start just before dawn, as it always does, so he’s eager to get some rest. He’s almost tempted to take another shower and ease some of the tension building in his shoulders, but he decides against it. It’s not like he did anything very strenuous today. 

 

The final part of his routine is the most important. He meditates for a while before going to sleep. It’s one of the three things he’s found that can reliably ward off the nightmares, the other two being a) falling asleep after an incredibly long and tiring day and b) not falling asleep at all. 

 

After meditation, he feels a little less drained than before, but certainly more tired. Time to turn in for the night. He unrolls the futon and drags it into place below the meticulously painted Uchiha fan spread across the wall. It doesn’t take long for sleep to overcome him, not after his emotionally tumultuous day, but just before he nods off, a stray thought flits across his mind:

 

Why does Uzumaki Naruto dream about the ocean?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sasuke: [has a panic attack]  
> sasuke: hm. must be a me thing. i will tell nobody of this weakness.
> 
> naruto has ABSOLUTELY broken his arm before and it took like maybe three days to fully heal cause Kurama, but he doesn't realize this is not normal and figures That's Just How Bones Work
> 
> thanks for reading!! kind of a shorter one today oop


	6. vi-naruto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heads up: some light gore and death in this chapter. nothing too graphic, but canon-typical violence ahead.

Naruto is of the firm opinion that it’s too damn early to be up on a Sunday, the one day of the week he usually has off, but here he is at seven thirty in the morning, perched on the back of his couch as Iruka-sensei checks to make sure he’s got everything he needs for his first C-Rank mission.

 

‘Ramen, Naruto? You packed _instant ramen?’_

 

‘I don’t know if Wave Country _has_ ramen,’ says Naruto, bewildered. Why is Iruka getting so hung up on what he’s packed? He has his weapons pouch. He has a bandage. He has Gama-chan. He has three pairs of underwear. He has seventeen instant ramen packages. He has his pyjamas. He’s all set. He even packed the ramen bricks instead of the cups so there’d be more room.

 

Iruka sighs. ‘Naruto, what about extra changes of clothes? A bedroll? Your toothbrush?’ He digs through Naruto’s pack and withdraws the bandage. ‘Is...is this your medical pack? It’s _one roll of gauze._ And, Naruto, really. This is a _lot_ of ramen.’

 

‘Yeah, I mean, we’re gonna be gone like a week and a half.’ He’s not sure why Iruka doesn’t get why he needs all this ramen. He’s gotta eat while on the road, and ramen travels well. He assumes there’s gonna be pots and pans where they’re going, and while he’s never been to Wave Country, he’s confident that he’ll be able to catch at least some fish to add to the ramen. He _could_ live on fish and mushrooms and roots, but it’s just not as tasty or filling as it would be if he could add said fish and mushrooms and roots to a bowl of ramen. Even if he doesn’t have a way to boil water or bowls to hold the ramen in, he can just crumble a brick and snack on that.

 

‘Go get your toothbrush at least. And toothpaste. And a hairbrush. Might as well take another change of clothes with you as well.’ Iruka makes little waving motions with his hands, clearly shooing Naruto towards his bathroom.

 

Naruto dutifully heaves himself off the couch and hauls himself into his tiny bathroom. After rooting around in the medicine cabinet for a few seconds, he digs out his toothbrush and a nearly-empty tube of toothpaste. He should be able to stretch the toothpaste out for a week and a half more. If not, he’s got some emergency ryo he can use in Gama-chan, who is tucked safely away at the bottom of his bag. He hopes Wave Country has toothpaste.

 

He returns to the kitchen, triumphantly stuffing the toothbrush and toothpaste into a side pocket of his pack. ‘Okay! Done packing! You can stop freaking out now, I have everything-- _hey_ , why’d you take all my ramen out?!’ Naruto tries not to pout too much at Iruka as he scoops his ramen back up and dumps it back in his pack. 

 

‘ _Because,_ ’ growls Iruka in his scariest I-Am-Your-Sensei-And-You-Should-Listen voice, ‘you need room for your other things. Like a hairbrush, other changes of clothes, and a bedroll.’ 

 

‘I don’t have a hairbrush or other clothes,’ Naruto replies cautiously, a mild panic building in his chest. Was he _supposed_ to have more than one set of clothes? Jiji never said so. He just reminded Naruto to buy new clothes when his old stuff was wearing out or too small for him. ‘And I don’t even know what a bedroll is.’

 

‘You don’t...Naruto, do you only have the one jumpsuit?!’

 

Iruka sounds upset. Shit, he was _definitely_ supposed to have more than one set of clothes. How was he supposed to know? He’s only ever had one set his whole life. Clothes are _expensive,_ and he needs to pay rent and buy ramen packs to supplement what he forages from the forests and training grounds. And he’s probably going to have to replace the set he has currently within the year: the pants are a little too short on him, and the sleeves no longer reach his wrists. ‘No…?’ he says hesitantly, not wanting to make things worse.

 

‘You only have the one jumpsuit,’ Iruka says faintly, and it’s not a question this time. 

 

‘I’m sorry,’ Naruto mumbles. ‘I’ll save up so I can afford another set.’ He perks up, suddenly realizing something. ‘Oh! C-ranks pay more, right? Maybe I’ll be able to afford it soon!’

 

Iruka looks absolutely gobsmacked. ‘Naruto, have you been wearing the same jumpsuit every day for—‘ he ticks off a few fingers as he does some mental math, ‘— _three years?_ Please tell me you at least change your shirt. By the Six Paths of the Sage, I _pray_ you change your shirt.’

 

‘Well, I used to? But I outgrew my white shirt, the one with the cool spiral-y flame thing, so now I just have the one black shirt. I wash it every day, though,’ Naruto says hastily. He knows first-hand how grubby one can get if they don’t bathe or wear clean clothes. For a large stretch of time after he first moved out of the orphanage, he had reveled in the lack of structured bathtimes. And then he started noticing the whispers villagers hissed behind his back, about how he was filthy and smelled awful, and how this proved he wasn’t really human. He also noticed that those particular whispers were fewer in number when he came back from splashing around in Konoha River. It didn’t take long for him to start bathing again and rinsing out his clothes each day. It’s part of why he’s particularly fond of his current jumpsuit: it holds up a _lot_ better to repeated washings than his other clothes did.

 

‘Thank the gods for small favors,’ Iruka says faintly. ‘When you come back from Wave, we’ll see what we can do about getting you some more clothes. I’ll run to my apartment and dig out my spare bedroll for you so you don’t have to sleep on the bare ground. We should have enough time for that before you set out.’

 

Naruto breathes a sigh of relief as he flashes Iruka a wobbly grin. He’s not in trouble for only having one jumpsuit. Now that he’s not in the Academy and doesn’t have to prank people to get their attention, he’s come to realize that getting in trouble feels _awful._ It’s honestly a huge weight off his shoulders, not having to act out to get people to notice him. Between hunting for information about his clan with Iruka during their free time and the occasional one-on-one sparring practice with Kakashi-sensei, Naruto no longer feels like he’s a starving puppy begging for scraps of attention. Even Sakura-chan is friendlier to him these days, less likely to brush him off or insult him, and more likely to offer advice or answers to his questions. 

 

In fact, Sasuke is the only variable in Naruto’s immediate social circle that remains relatively unchanged: he’s as distant and vaguely pissed off as ever, and he’s still wiping the floor with Naruto during taijutsu practice. Sasuke’s practice fights with Naruto have always been... _intense_ , and now that Naruto knows the truth about the Nine-Tailed Fox, he wonders if the Academy teachers were willfully turning a blind eye to how out of hand their sparring matches could get. Iruka-sensei would always get flustered and call a stop when their spar would devolve from a practice match into a full-on brawl, but none of the other instructors would make a move to separate the two.

 

But it’s not like the other boy _hates_ him, he thinks. Sure, Sasuke seems permanently annoyed with him, and he’s quick to call Naruto out on his mistakes, but he does the same for Sakura-chan and Kakashi-sensei. He doesn’t seem angry with Naruto in particular, just...angry in general.

 

And there’s something else, too. Sasuke doesn’t necessarily go _easy_ on Sakura-chan when they’re paired up for sparring, but he also doesn’t throw his all into the match like he does when facing off with Naruto.

 

In his own, weird way, Sasuke’s been paying attention to him from the start, Naruto thinks. It’s not the _best_ feeling, getting his ass kicked or his mistakes roasted, but at least he knows that Sasuke is taking him even a little bit seriously.

 

‘You really don’t need all this ramen,’ Iruka says, jerking Naruto’s attention back to his dim, drab kitchen. ‘I have some extra ration bars you can take, and I also have some scrolls that I’d like you to study. I know, I know,’ he laughs as Naruto splutters indignantly. ‘But you’ll have some down time in between guard shifts, and I feel it would be best if you brushed up on basic chakra theory before you dive headfirst into trying to manifest your chains.’

 

Naruto’s mood immediately brightens at that. ‘Are we gonna try again when I get back?’ About a month ago, he and Iruka had booked a training ground for five hours to see if he could call up his chains in a more controlled environment. And in those five hours, he hadn’t managed to form so much as a single link. He’d been terribly disappointed, but Iruka had just hummed and told him that these things take time and patience. 

 

Iruka chuckles, ruffling his hair. ‘When you get back from Wave, we’re going to try again, yes. Provided you _study your scrolls._ And I’ve asked your sensei to make sure you do.’

 

‘ _Buzz-kill.’_

 

‘What was that?’ 

 

‘Nothing, Iruka-sensei!’

 

* * *

 

After a short detour to Iruka’s house (to stuff ration bars, three scrolls on chakra and how to mold it, and a surprisingly compact bedroll into Naruto’s pack) and a not-so-short detour to Ichiraku’s (which had been open for hours: a ramen bar opening at six in the morning might have been bizarre in a civilian village, but shinobi villages never truly sleep) Naruto finds himself squashed in a very awkward hug from Iruka. ‘Iruka-senseeeei,’ he whines, trying to wriggle free from the embrace. ‘I gotta _go,_ it’s nine o’clock, you can tell cuz of the sun—‘

 

‘Be safe,’ Iruka says instead of releasing him. ‘Listen to Kakashi. Don’t let Tazuna-san get to you.’

 

‘Iruka-sensei pleeeeeeeeease—‘

 

‘Read your scrolls. Listen to Kakashi.’

 

‘You _said that already—‘_

 

‘It’s very important. I’ve lost track. Where was I? Oh, yes, don’t forget to do your practice katas. And listen to Kakashi.’

 

‘ _Lemme gooooooooooooo, Sakura-chan and Teme are waiting for meeeeee—‘_

 

‘And Naruto, this is very important.’ Iruka relinquishes his hug in favor of gripping Naruto’s shoulders tight and staring deep into his eyes. ‘ _Do not, under any circumstances, try to use your chains in the field._ Tell me why you shouldn’t.’

 

‘I don’t know how to regulate my chakra so it doesn’t drain me, I can’t use them with my taijutsu yet, and if I collapse from chakra exhaustion, I endanger myself and my teammates,’ Naruto mutters back. Iruka’s been drilling this into his brain from day one of their impromptu lessons, and Naruto knows that it’s important that he keep the chains secret until he can use them right, but he’s tired of repeating the Don’t Use Your Super Special Move Mantra back to Iruka whenever the chuunin thinks he needs a reminder.

 

‘Good.’ Iruka musses his hair again, and honestly, why did he want Naruto to pack a hairbrush if he keeps making his hair messier? ‘You shouldn’t need them, really. As far as C-ranks go, this one is tame enough that you should get by with taijutsu alone. Now off you go. Tazuna-san is waiting for you.’ 

 

Naruto whirls and dashes off, happy to be free from Iruka’s weird clinginess. As he draws level to the gate, he skids to a stop in front of his waiting teammates and turns back, cupping his hands around his mouth. ‘BYE IRUKA-SENSEI! THANK YOU FOR THE ROLLY BED THING!’

 

Iruka looks like he’s stifling a laugh as he waves to Naruto before turning and strolling back into the village. ‘Thought your sensei was the weird tired guy with the mask,’ Tazuna grunts, squinting against the mid-morning sun. ‘Where is he, by the way? That bridge ain’t gonna build itself, and I don’t wanna spend more time on the road than I gotta.’

 

‘He’s late,’ grumbles Sakura, just as Kakashi-sensei drops down from the top of the gate and drawls, ‘Good morning, Tazuna-san.’

 

‘Amazing, you’re punctual for once,’ mutters Sasuke, adjusting a bulky pack on his shoulders. ‘So I guess we mean much less to you than drunken bridge-builders, since you never show up on time for _us.’_

 

‘Maa, Sasuke-kun, is that any way to talk about our esteemed client?’ Kakashi drones, eye-smiling. ‘I’ll give you a hint: if Naruto isn’t allowed to insult the Daimyo’s wife’s cat in front of her, you’re not allowed to insult Tazuna-san to his face. Apologize, please.’

 

Sasuke stiffens, his eyes narrowing to slits before turning with a jerk to Tazuna and bowing woodenly. ‘I apologize.’

 

Tazuna eyes Sasuke, his mouth twisted into a slight frown. ‘Yeah, whatever.’

 

‘Well!’ Kakashi claps his hands and rubs them together. ‘Let’s hit the road. Tazuna-san is right, we don’t want to spend too much time on the road, and with the weather being so clear today, we should be able to make decent time.’

 

Naruto can barely contain his excitement, bouncing on the balls of his feet. ‘Iruka-sensei and I looked at the routes we can take last night and he thinks we could shave a few hours off if we take the path that’s closer to the Rain Country border, but also that it’d be a bigger risk ‘cause the closer you get to other Countries, the more of a chance you’re gonna run into shinobi instead of just bandits or animals—‘

 

‘And Iruka-san is right. It is a bigger risk, and an unnecessary one, as Tazuna’s bridge can wait one more day for us to arrive.’ Kakashi withdraws a map of his own from a pocket and gestures the genin closer so they can study it themselves. ‘Now, this is the first time any of you have left the Village--’

 

‘Oh, _perfect,’_ growls Tazuna, resettling his pack on his shoulders. ‘Exactly what I needed, absolute novices that’ve never been away from home.’

 

‘--so I want you all to be aware of your surroundings,’ Kakashi continues as if Tazuna had said nothing at all. ‘Well, Sakura-chan, have you left the Village before? I know your father’s a merchant, I don’t know if he’s taken you on business?’

 

‘Only to Tanzuka Gai,’ Sakura mumbles, staring unblinkingly at the map like Kakashi will tuck it away forever and quiz them on it. Naruto wants to assure her that they’re gonna stick to the paths, and he figures Kakashi and Tazuna will know the way to Wave, but he’s not sure she’d appreciate him calling attention to her obvious anxiety. ‘Never this--this far. Only day trips.’

 

‘Still,’ Kakashi says, folding the map neatly and handing it to her. ‘You’re the one in the group who’s spent the most time outside the walls. I’d like for you to take point. It’s a big responsibility, and you have to be constantly on guard for potential threats. Can I trust you to handle this? Naruto and Sasuke might be a bit...distracted by the new experience.’

 

Sakura’s eyes widen even farther, and she mutely nods. Naruto bites back more reassurances, instead vowing to somehow drop some compliments on her navigation later on today, if Kakashi or Sasuke don’t beat him to it. Although, now that he thinks about it, Sasuke would probably have to hit his head on a rock, get amnesia, and forget all about the stick up his ass before he willingly points out someone else’s accomplishments.

 

‘Sasuke, stop sulking for a second,’ Kakashi deadpans, because Sasuke’s permanent frown has deepened at the insinuation that he’s not suited for a task that Sakura has been assigned to. ‘You’ve got the fastest reflexes and the strongest taijutsu of the unit. I’d like you to shadow Tazuna, and if any threat makes itself known, protect him.’

 

This seems to ease Sasuke’s wounded pride, because his frown lessens and he snorts that stupid little snort he does whenever he doesn’t want to talk like a human. ‘Hrm.’

 

‘Naruto,’ Kakashi says, and Naruto feels his face break into a huge grin. He wonders what super important job Kakashi has for him, what he could possibly be doing to help the mission-- ‘Iruka-san asked me to make sure you study your scrolls. I’m familiar with the content on them, and I’ll quiz you every other hour.’

 

‘Aw.’ Naruto deflates. ‘But, Sensei--’

 

Kakashi’s flat stare meets his eyes, inviting no argument. ‘Yes?’

 

‘...okay,’ Naruto grumbles.

 

* * *

 

Naruto’s trying super hard to read the scrolls Iruka gave him, but his gaze keeps getting drawn away by brooks running by the side of the path, by birds he’s never seen flitting around Konoha’s trees, by wild bushes heavy with berries whose tastes he can only guess at. There’s so much to _see_ outside Konoha, so many new sights and sounds, and he just wants to stuff the scrolls deep in his pack and tear up the newest tree to drink it all in from a decent vantage point.

 

‘Maa, Naruto,’ Kakashi sidles up to him. ‘Tell me how to use hand-signs to mold chakra and perform a jutsu.’

 

‘You do the goofy hand things and you do the jutsu,’ Naruto replies irritably, tearing his eyes away from a brilliant purple butterfly that had just caught his attention. ‘I can’t remember why the hand signs help with the chakra-mold-thing. Something about the place on your body it comes from?’

 

Kakashi waves his hand in a see-saw motion. ‘Ehh, you’re close. Closer than you were four hours ago, anyways. The hand signs help you focus your chakra and draw it from certain tenketsu, yes. There are...I think 365? 360? Around 360 tenketsu on your body, I forget how many exactly. I’m not a medic-nin. Twelve of these tenketsu are considered to be Greater Tenketsu, and each of them are associated with a particular hand-sign. For instance, Rat and Horse are your left and right wrists, respectively.’

 

‘Okay, right, sure,’ said Naruto, trying to look like anything Kakashi just said made any amount of sense to him.

 

‘Some Tenketsu will be easier to draw chakra from than others. For you, I suspect Ram, Tiger and Snake are the ones that you draw from the easiest. Ram and Tiger sit on either side of your collarbone, and Snake is on your belly. Unfortunately, this means it’s easier for you to overload your buunshin. You can’t control the flow as well as your peers because you simply have too much chakra.’

 

‘Because of the--’

 

Kakashi slaps a gloved hand over Naruto’s mouth. ‘Yes, because of the Uzumaki lineage you have,’ he replies, perhaps a touch louder than was strictly necessary. Right. Right, the Fox was an S-rank secret. He almost forgot, what with how freely Iruka talks about it now. Their current line of theory as to why his chains simply won’t come out is that the Fox’s chakra is somehow affecting him.

 

In front of them, Tazuna’s head pops up from his seemingly permanent slouch and twists around to stare owlishly over his shoulder. ‘Hold on. Uzumaki? This kid’s an _Uzumaki?_ Hell, you shoulda told me sooner, that’s honestly a huge fuckin’ relief. Glad to see your clan’s still kickin’, one of my best friends growing up was from the branch house. She prob’ly died in the Fall, but maybe she made it out, if your parents did.’

 

The entire party screeches to a halt, Sakura stumbling over her own feet, Sasuke looking as if someone’s punched him in the gut, and Naruto dropping the scroll on handsigns directly in a mud puddle. Tazuna takes a few more strides before he realizes that something’s amiss. ‘What? What’d I say?’

 

‘Tazuna-san,’ Kakashi says quietly, no hint of lazy humor or disregard laced through his voice. ‘I would very much appreciate it if you did not mention Naruto’s clan again. Here in Fire Country, we should be safe, but Wave being so much closer to Kiri…’

 

‘Don’t gotta tell me twice,’ the bridge-builder grunts. ‘I’m old enough to remember the Fall of Uzushio. Nasty fuckin’ business, that, right shame.’ Sakura and Sasuke are both flicking uncertain gazes between Kakashi and Tazuna, the millions of questions Naruto wants to ask about his long-dead family mirrored in their eyes. ‘Hell, Wave wouldn’t be in the mess we’re in if Uzu were still stompin’ around--’

 

‘What mess?’ Kakashi says sharply. ‘I was under the impression that this was an economic venture, Tazuna-san.’

 

‘Uh,’ Tazuna says dumbly. ‘Um.’ 

 

‘I swear on the Shodai’s bones, if you’ve endangered my genin--’ Kakashi snarls, sidestepping around Naruto to advance on Tazuna.

 

‘I didn’t know Konoha’d assign me _fresh genin,_ how could I have known _that--’_

 

Naruto feels something cold and wet and hard close around his ankle, and his gaze darts down to meet the crazed eyes of a foriegn shinobi dressed in weird clothing erupting from the puddle beneath him. There’s a cruel mask covering the lower half of their face, and a wicked, clawed gauntlet is clamped around his leg. He manages a single cry before the hulking form of another, similarly dressed nin surges up on his other side, his identical clawed glove hovering inches from Naruto’s neck as his other arm wraps tightly around his shoulders. ‘Nobody moves!’ the first shinobi barks, hauling himself further out of the puddle, revealing a chain connecting the two shinobi together by their gauntlets. ‘Nobody moves, or the little baby Uzumaki meets the rest of his precious family in the Pure Lands!’ They drag Naruto backwards, manhandling him farther from the group. 

 

‘Tazuna-san,’ Kakashi grinds out. ‘I am going to _flay you alive.’_

 

‘Aw, come on now,’ laughs the shinobi holding his claws against Naruto’s jugular. ‘That’s _our_ job, Konoha. Now hand him over, nice and easy, and you can have your boy back. But no funny business, or I shove my hand through his pretty little neck.’

 

‘Acceptable,’ drawls Kakashi almost instantly, placing a hand on Tazuna’s shoulder and shoving him bodily down the path. Tazuna yelps, stumbling as he tries to dig in his heels.

 

Sakura darts in front of Tazuna, a steadying hand on his arm drawing him back behind her. ‘Kakashi-sensei, the mission--’

 

‘Is off. This coward is useless, and I have no qualms trading his meaningless life for Naruto’s.’

 

‘S-sensei, _no,_ ’ Naruto starts to say, and bites back a yelp as two kunai bury themselves in the loops of the chain in quick succession, pinning it to the ground and yanking the claws away from Naruto’s neck. He feels the tips of the claws scratch fine welts across his skin and counts himself lucky it wasn’t any deeper as he flings himself into a rolling dive forward and away from the two attackers. Naruto’s roll to his feet isn’t nearly as bad-ass as he wants it to be, but it’s serviceable, and by the time that he’s got his legs under him again, he’s got a good two or three feet in between him and the newly pinned shinobi, well out of their range.

 

‘The chain--Meizu, disengage the chain--’ 

 

With a muffled clank, the chain falls away from their gauntlets, and they’re free to lunge at him again. He fumbles for a kunai of his own as he tries to put more distance between himself and the attacking shinobi--

 

\--only to drop his weapons pouch entirely as a dark form blurs past his left side. A weird screechy-keening-bird call echoes loudly in his ears and the smell of ozone burns his nostrils as the blur coalesces into Kakashi, his right arm buried up to the elbow in the gut of one of the shinobi, electricity flickering from the wound. The other shinobi manages a strangled cry before Kakashi lashes his other hand out, a kunai arcing from his grasp into the other man’s neck.

 

There’s a small gasp behind Naruto, and he turns to see Sakura standing in front of Tazuna, who’s sprawled on his backside in the dirt. She has a kunai held loosely in her grasp as she stares with eyes the size of dinner plates at the dying shinobi. ‘Oh,’ she says faintly. ‘That’s--oh.’

 

‘Well, this mission has now officially gone from C-Rank to B-rank,’ grouses Kakashi, yanking his arm out from the attacker’s gut with a disgusting _squelch_. He shakes a bit of charred gore from his hand disinterestedly, and yanks his canteen from his belt, uncorking it and pouring water over his blood-and-intestine soaked arm. ‘Naruto? Are you okay?’

 

The welts on Naruto’s neck sting uncomfortably, there’s a writhing, uncomfortable feeling in his gut, and the smell of the attacker’s blood seeping into the dust of the road is making his head spin, but he shrugs the best he can and says ‘Yeah,’ in the most unaffected voice he can manage. Sakura’s on the edge of freaking out, he can tell, and if he loses it too, it’s only gonna get worse. He’s gotta squash his panic down as far as he can, for the sake of his teammates.

 

‘Sakura,’ Kakashi says, voice calm and soft, like he’s talking to a horse that’s about to spook. ‘Sakura-chan, you did very well, protecting Tazuna-san like that. And Sasuke, excellent aim with those kunai. Excellent job using Sakura and I as a smokescreen for the setup. And Naruto,’ Kakashi reaches out (a thankfully gore-free) hand to rustle Naruto’s hair. ‘Good job keeping your cool. If you’d panicked and thrashed around, the claws would have broken skin and poisoned you.’

 

Naruto’s hand involuntarily claps to the welts on his neck, their sting already fading. ‘Oh,’ he says numbly. ‘Uh. Yikes, I guess.’

 

‘You tried to _sell me out,’_ exclaims Tazuna shakily, still sitting on the ground, his legs akimbo.

 

‘Maa, Tazuna-san, it was a logical deception.’ Kakashi waves his still-slightly-bloody hand in a shrug. ‘As logical as your deception was, I think. So tell me. What exactly is the situation in Wave?’

 

* * *

  
  
They make camp for the night after Kakashi seals the bodies of the shinobi away into storage scrolls. Naruto’s not sure if he’s going to be able to sleep after everything that happened today, but he’s bone-tired and still vaguely dizzy, so he’s grateful they’re bedding down. 

 

He’s just settling down onto Iruka’s rolly bed thing when his eye’s meet Sakura’s over the small fire Sasuke built. She’s staring vacantly ahead, normally bright eyes glazed and empty, and it looks like her breathing is super shallow and irregular. ‘Uh, Sakura-chan?’

 

She jumps violently, eyes snapping into focus. ‘What?’ she snarls defensively, hands curling into fists.

 

‘Just...uh...you did really good with the directions today,’ he said lamely, not wanting to poke too hard at whatever thoughts are hurting her. He knows he doesn’t like thinking about the night Mizuki died, so she probably doesn’t want reminding of today’s ordeal either. ‘We made really great time, I think, and we couldn’t have done it without your help.’

 

Sakura stares at him blankly. ‘Anybody could have read a map.’

 

‘I can barely read normal things, let alone maps,’ Naruto responds dryly. ‘And Sasuke’s never been outside Konoha either. I bet the bastard has no idea which way’s north.’

 

‘Hm.’ Sasuke’s disaffected grunt rings out from the lump of dark blue sleeping bag set up further away from the fire.

 

‘Okay, Teme, which way is north? Tell us right now. Sakura-chan, whattya wanna bet he has no idea which way north is?’ 

 

He’s taken off guard when she hesitantly replies, ‘...5000 ryo.’ 

 

She never joins in when he pokes fun of Sasuke for anything. She must _really_ be taking this badly. All the more reason for him to steer her thoughts away from the fight today. ‘Hear that, Sasuke? You’ll owe us both 5000 ryo if you can’t tell us which way north is.’

 

Sasuke sits up in his sleeping bag, dark eyes glittering in the firelight as he glares at Naruto. ‘That’s not how bets work, Dobe.’

 

‘It’s how this bet works. So do you admit defeat? Or are you gonna tell us?’

 

‘Tch.’ Sasuke points straight back up the path. ‘Obviously, we have to go south to get to Wave. So the direction we came from is north. Simple.’

 

‘Not quite,’ Kakashi sing-songs from his perch in the tree above them. ‘Wave is _southeast_ from Konoha. We’ve been traveling east for quite some time now. That’s west, Sasuke. I sure hope you have ten thousand ryo lying around.’ He pauses, cocking his head. ‘Well, you will after this mission, anyways. B-ranks pay much better than D-ranks.’

 

‘I still don’t know how we’re going to afford it,’ grumbled Tazuna, settling further into his bedding. ‘We might have to set up tolls, but Gato won’t take kindly to it.’

 

‘We’ll work something out with Wave’s Headsman,’ Kakashi says smoothly. ‘Konoha is always open to fee negotiation, Tazuna-san. I’m only sorry you were unaware of that.’ His singular gaze flicks down towards the old bridge-builder. ‘I know you didn’t intentionally put my genin in harm’s way, but understand that we’re cutting the mission a bit short. I cannot afford to put these kids on the front lines of a shipping war, not with enemy nin at play. Certainly not nin of the Demon Brothers’ calibre. The last time their entry was updated in the Bingo Books, they were running with Momochi Zabuza, and I’d hate to cross paths with him right now.’

 

Tazuna shrugs helplessly. ‘All I can ask is for you to get me home.’

 

‘We will do just that, nothing more.’ Kakashi leans further back against the trunk of the tree. ‘Get some rest, Tazuna-san. I’d like to leave as soon as possible in the morning to make up for the time we lost fighting the Brothers. Same goes for you three. I’ll wake you when it’s your turn for watch.’

 

And just like that, Sakura’s back to staring vacantly at the fire. Dammit, all Kakashi’s talk about the Demon Brothers has got her thinking again. ‘Sakura-chan,’ Naruto says softly. ‘You wanna talk about...what happened?’

She shakes her head vigorously, and he decides to change tactics. ‘Yeah, me either. I guess we’d better try to get some rest.’

 

It’s several minutes before she reples ‘...how?’ she whispers, her voice cracking slightly. ‘How can I sleep after...that?’

 

‘I...I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll be able to either.’ Naruto twists the fabric of his favorite quilt in his hands, glad Iruka talked him into packing it. The night is surprisingly chilly, and the fire can only do so much to keep him warm. ‘I’m gonna be honest, I’m worried about having nightmares about it. I dunno how I could avoid nightmares after...that.’

 

Sasuke replies, taking them both by surprise. ‘Meditation. I can guide you through it.’ 

 

‘That’s...actually kind of nice, Teme,’ Naruto says, mildly shocked that Sasuke would suggest it without prompting.

 

‘Do you want me to help you two or not?’ Sasuke almost snarls.

 

‘There he is,’ Naruto laughs.

 

‘Shut up, Dobe, and sit up, cross-legged. You too, Sakura.’

 

It’s...weird, having Sasuke talk them through the meditation. Normally, Naruto’s thoughts race wildly, one after the other in quick succession, like songbirds chasing each other through the trees. Sometimes they light on a branch and stay a while, and he can focus on one thing, but for the most part, they run rampant and free. 

 

But with Sasuke’s low, quiet voice washing over him, guiding his breaths and encouraging him to let his mind drift unmoored, his usually rampant thoughts...settle. He can almost feel his stream of thoughts slow down and settle. It’s calming, and the more he focuses on his breathing and on Sasuke’s voice, the further away the troubles of the day seem to grow. Eventually, Sasuke’s words start to fade away too, replaced by another sound he can’t quite place. A gentle, rhythmic roaring, pulsing in time to his heartbeat. It sounded almost like the wind, but not quite. _The ocean,_ his brain supplies. _The sound of the ocean._

 

He’s not sure why he knows what the ocean sounds like, he’s never been, but the knowledge rings true in his heart. It tugs at him, the crash of the waves and whistling of the wind singing to him of peace and tranquility, and he lets his mind sink further into the meditation. 

 

A gasp breaks his concentration, the waves abruptly vanish from his mind, and his eyes snap open. He’s surrounded by a burning orange glow, and he immediately leaps to his feet, thinking the fire has somehow spread to his bedroll--

 

\--and then he realizes. As soon as his brain registers what they are, his Adamantine Chains shatter into burning dust, joining the lazy sparks of the campfire as they spiral into the night sky.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kakashi: listen tazuna i would sell your soul to satan for one corn chip  
> tazuna: you know what? fair
> 
>  
> 
> guest-starring some very bullshit chakra theory world building that i pulled out my ass.
> 
>  
> 
> lemme tell yall: fulltime retail is a helluva drug, I've barely been able to write at all. but im back baybeeeee! will i start updating regularly? reply hazy, check back again.
> 
> thanks for reading!!


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